Innocence
by Elise de Sallier
Summary: Ignorance is supposed to be bliss, but in Isabella Swan's experience, it leads to unwise choices and unnecessarily tragic outcomes . . . and there is nothing blissful about either. (Previously posted as A Forbidden Love. This is a Twific version of the extended, published version.)
1. Chapter 1

**To say thank you to my wonderful readers who voted Passion and Propriety into the number one place on the TwiFanFictionRecs Top Ten Completed Fics for February 2018, (Squeee!)I've decided to start posting my newly Twificced story, Innocence, so you have something from me to enjoy each day...well, most days. There might be the odd one when I don't manage to post a chapter. Sadly, this is not another Hearts of Honour story, though I promise I am working on the next one, and will be back as soon as possible with another tale in my Regency Era series.**

 **Innocence is set 20 years later than Passion and Propriety, in 1831, under the reign of King William IV. It was originally posted as a Twific story called A Forbidden Love back in 2012, so some of you will have already read the earlier version. This version was P2P and underwent extensive (exhausting and torturous!) editing, which included a huge amount of research on my part as well as the addition of entirely new sections in the second half of the story. It was then published as two books, Innocence and Protection. I have recently combined both books under the title Innocence, and the original version is available on Amazon. This is the same version just with the names changed to those of our beloved Twilight characters. In the editing process, some of the descriptions of the characters were changed from Twilight canon. As I do not have the time to rewrite this, I am going to leave those descriptions as they are. This means that, in this version of the story, Bella has red hair. It became an integral part of the 'extended' story, and I can't see a way to change her to a brunette without having to make massive changes. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much.**

 **WARNING! When I first published this story on FFn, some readers were upset by and incredulous regarding Bella's level of ignorance about sex. From my research of the times in which this story is set, and my own family's history, I stand by this possibility. My own mother, grandmother, and great grandmother told me they all went to their marriage beds not knowing a blessed thing about what was going to happen. My mother, a university educated and very intelligent woman, was six months pregnant with her first baby when she plucked up the courage to ask the doctor how he was going to get the baby out of her belly button. I realise this seems incomprehensible to us nowadays, but times and access to information has changed beyond all imagining for women who were routinely kept in the dark about their own bodies. T** **he heroine of this story starts out extremely naive and ignorant regarding sex and the ways of the world. She undergoes a transformative journey of discovery and personal growth, eventually becoming a woman of strength and character - but this is a process and doesn't happen overnight.**

 **The other issue some readers had difficulties with (about 200 flaming reviews worth for one chapter alone!) is that the hero is a somewhat arrogant, entitled nobleman who thinks it is perfectly acceptable to seduce a serving girl and take her as his mistress, just because he very much likes the look of her. He, too, undergoes quite the transformation in character and attitude over the course of this story, far beyond what was actually likely for the times but in keeping with what makes a hero to our modern sensibilities.**

 **If either of those issues put this story into your 'no go' zone, I completely understand. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy this story.**

 **xxx Elise**

 **Summary: Ignorance is supposed to be bliss, but in Isabella Swan's experience, it leads to unwise choices and unnecessarily tragic outcomes . . . and there is nothing blissful about either.**

 **Chapter 1 - Forced to Flee**

 **England 1831**

"Mark my words, Sir Charles, Isabella _will_ be mine."

Bella's hand rose to the doorknob uncertainly. Her father had assured her he wouldn't accept Lord James Hunter's proposal, but the odious man seemed unable to accept no for an answer.

An only child, Bella had not given much thought to her father's heir, a distant cousin, until he arrived, unannounced, bearing token gifts and oily charm. Some fifteen years Bella's senior, Lord Hunter had wasted no time asking for her hand in marriage, claiming a desire to save her from the humiliation of dispossession upon her father's demise.

The idea was ludicrous. Her father was robust, his death not something she feared even knowing his estate was entailed to a male heir.

Bella had long been aware marriage was where her future security lay, but she had only just turned eight and ten, so there was plenty of time. While she harboured concerns her unfashionable colouring would limit potential suitors, she was in no rush to face society's scrutiny.

"For the last time, the answer is no."

Bella was relieved to hear the determination in her father's voice.

"I shall not give permission for you to wed my daughter, and you will not be getting your hands on her dowry to pay your debts."

Lord Hunter had inherited his father's barony some years earlier, Swan Manor being a mere bauble in comparison. But rumour had reached Sir Charles his heir was cash-poor, having run his estate into the ground with his propensity for gambling and licentious living.

"Her dowry is irrelevant. I might even let her keep it." Lord Hunter laughed, but the sound was devoid of humour. "We both know she's worth far more to me in other ways."

"You are mistaken. Isabella does not care for your manner, and I do not care for your insinuations."

"And I don't give a damn about either of you. I will marry your precious daughter and reap all the rewards, monetary and otherwise. It shall be my pleasure to teach her a thing or two. Redheads are quite corruptible, in my experience. She'll earn me a pretty penny on her back."

Bella was uncertain as to the visiting lord's meaning, but her father's roar of anger confirmed her suspicions the words were highly insulting. At the sound of a loud crash, she burst into the room to see him lunge for his heir . . . who was holding a pistol in his outstretched arm. While she watched on, helpless, the rogue shot her father in the chest.

"Papa!"

She watched helplessly as he fell to the ground. Before she could reach his side, Lord Hunter grabbed her arm and spun her to face him.

"You have three days to mourn your father and prepare for our wedding."

Neither his tone nor his expression gave any indication he had just shot a man, and Bella stared at him in horror. Lord Hunter was insane.

"I will never marry you!" She tried to pull away, but he tugged her closer.

"Oh, but I think you will. Once I have reported your father's accidental death—he really should have been more careful when handling his weapon—it will be a simple matter as his heir to have myself appointed your legal guardian. You, my dear, don't get a say in the matter."

Her father groaned, and Bella tried to break free of Lord Hunter's grip.

"I shall tell the authorities the truth . . . that you shot him in cold blood."

" _He_ lunged at _me,_ not that it matters. Do you honestly think anyone will take the word of a country chit over a peer of the realm?"

"Papa was unarmed. The servants will verify my version of events." Bella stopped struggling, her tone less certain. The word of a young lady from a very minor family would hold little weight against that of a baron, a servant's word would hold next to nothing.

Lord Hunter's smile faded. "The servants will respect their new master or suffer the consequences. As will you."

"I shall never submit to you," Bella said, but her voice trembled.

"Oh, but you will," he whispered close to her ear. "To me and any man with whom I choose to share you . . . at a price, of course."

He released her with a shove, and she stumbled across the room. After quickly righting herself, she knelt beside her father. Mr Waters, her father's estate manager, had rushed into the parlour at the sound of the gunshot and worked frantically to stem the flow of blood from his master's wound.

"You're wasting your time." Lord Hunter sneered. "I shall return in three days with the necessary paperwork and a minister. Miss Swan had best be prepared for her wedding, or she won't be the only one to pay the price."

Mr Waters caught Bella's eye, the slight shake of his head warning her to keep silent.

"Yes, my lord," he replied meekly, as the baron strode from the room. "All will be in readiness."

"What are you thinking? I can't marry that monster." Bella's words ended on a sob, as she stared at the vivid red stain spreading across her father's shirt.

"Oh Papa," she murmured.

His eyes flickered open. "You must flee to Worthington Hall, Isabella," he said between rasping breaths. "Before that devil returns for you."

"I can't leave you like this," she said, even knowing she must. Lord Hunter might be devoid of honour, but in this instance, she feared he would be true to his word.

Her father reached for her hand, his grip feeble. "Take your mother's pearls with you, but don't show them to anyone but Carlisle. He will keep you safe."

The bond formed between Bella's father, Sir Charles Swan, a military officer knighted for services to his king and country, and Lord Carlisle Cullen, the Duke of Worthington, had been forged during the war against Napoleon. The two men corresponded regularly, but it had been many years since the Duke had visited Swan Manor.

"Very well, Papa. I shall go to Uncle Carlisle," Bella said, unsure if she should use her childhood name for the Duke or if it might be inappropriate after so long.

"Promise me you will trust no one else. No one."

"I promise."

Tears blurred Bella's vision as her father's eyes closed, and his hand went limp.

"There's no time for weeping." Mr Waters lifted her to her feet. "Ye must do as Sir Charles says."

"How can I? Lord Hunter will be furious if he returns and I'm not here. You heard his threats. He will make you all pay."

"Don't ye be worrying about us, Miss Isabella. I'll tell him ye ran away in the middle of the night. The men who served under yer father can make false reports saying ye were seen riding south and west, away from Worthington."

"But it's on the other side of the country. How will I get there?"

"Jacob and Leah can escort ye, but ye'll have to disguise yerself as a commoner."

"A commoner?" Bella's eyes widened.

"Aye, or Lord Hunter will track ye down in no time."

She nodded jerkily, her gaze returning to where her father lay. "But what about Papa? Is he going to . . ."

Mr Waters sighed. "We'll do what we can, lass, but his injury is grave. Ye need to prepare yerself for the worst, I'm afraid. The best thing ye can do fer yer father now is get to safety."

Stifling a sob, Bella turned and ran up the stairs to her room where his wife, Mrs Waters, the housekeeper, was waiting.

"Serving lasses don't wear stays, so ye'll 'ave to go without," she said, undoing the buttons on the back of Bella's floral gown. "Leah can help ye on the journey, but it needs to look like ye've dressed yerself, so I've chosen yer plain blue gown with the front buttons."

Bella's stomach churned at the thought of masquerading as one from a lower class.

"I've sent Leah to fetch ye one of 'er bonnets, as none of yers are suitable," Mrs Waters added, after helping Bella into the new dress and rearranging her hair into a simpler style. "Just keep yer 'ead down and try not to let anyone see yer face."

"My face?"

"Aye. Your bone structure's too fine and skin too smooth. You've got nobility stamped all over yer lovely features."

In years past, Bella would have scoffed at the housekeeper's assessment, but her likeness to the mother she had lost when she was only a girl had grown with time. Sir Charles's wife had been renowned for her beauty with her creamy skin, flashing green eyes, and rich, auburn hair, dark enough not to be deemed the dreaded red. While Bella had her father's smile, and her hair was a much fierier hue, the similarity was now undeniable.

"I've put some old gloves in yer satchel. Wear them in public to keep yer 'ands covered. They'll give ye away in an 'eartbeat." Mrs Waters placed a small, velvet bag in Bella's hands. "Yer mother's pearls. Tie them to yer chemise, and don't let anybody see them."

Bella did as she was told before donning the plainest of her coats, a dark grey pelisse that fitted her curves a little snugly now she had removed her stays. Hesitating in the doorway before rushing to catch up with the housekeeper, she looked around the room she had called her own since graduating from the nursery.

Jacob, an apprentice smith and her father's part-time carriage driver, waited in the courtyard with a plough horse harnessed to a tray-backed cart. Bella's steps slowed, the answer coming to her before she could voice the question. Of course, they couldn't take her father's carriage and team of four. Lord Hunter would track her down in no time.

Leah, Jacob's fiancée, came running from the house, a bag and bonnet in her arms.

"Here, Miss. Put this on." She pushed the plain, black hat into Bella's hands while Jacob helped her into the back of the cart. "Ye'll have to lie down so we can keep ye hidden."

"Very well." Bella eyed the wooden slats warily but did as she was asked.

Leah covered her with a coarse blanket and was about to pull it over her head when Mr Waters approached.

"I'm sorry, lass, but I don't think yer father's goin' to make it." His brogue deepened with distress. "Ye'd best not try to contact us until His Grace says it's safe."

Unable to speak for the lump in her throat, Bella huddled down as Jacob urged the old horse into motion. With her head covered, she was denied a last look at her home and the people she loved, but their images were burned in her memory. Of her father, she could not bear to think.

Grateful for the musty blanket covering her head, Bella gave in to her grief and wept until exhaustion overtook her.

~I~

 **Thank you again for all your support of my stories. You guys are wonderful!**

 **xx Elise**


	2. Rude Awakening

**Thank you so much for your very kind words! I wish I had the time to respond to all your lovely reviews, but I am so slow, and I only ever seem to get to a handful. If you have a question you would like answered (rather than the rhetorical ones I'm never sure about!) please feel free to PM me, and I'll make sure to reply. To those who have read this already but are back for a second (or third or fourth) time, thank you! To those who have bought the originals but are back for the read along, thank you...and you are amazing! To my new readers, I do hope you enjoy this story. It does get angsty in places, but I'm all about the HEA and my characters having some good times as well as challenges along the way.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 2 - Rude Awakening**

Bella had travelled beyond the nearby village of Forkton but once before. Her father preferred to stay close to home, declaring he'd seen enough of the world during the war. In an attempt to cheer them both the summer after her mother's death, he had taken Bella on a visit to the seaside. It had been pleasant enough, despite their grief, but she suspected the journey to Worthington Hall would introduce her to an altogether different side of life.

"Ye'd best keep yer mouth shut." Leah walked close beside her mistress when they alighted from the public coach they had caught in Colebrook, Forkton's nearest neighbour. Bella was about to protest when Jacob confirmed Leah's instructions.

"Yer accent—or lack of one—will give ye away."

With her head low, Bella huddled between her companions as they entered a disreputable-looking inn. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of stale beer, tobacco smoke, and unwashed bodies. She listened in horror when Jacob negotiated a place for them to stay . . . a room with a single bed, the smallest and cheapest on offer.

"Surely we can afford a better place than this? We could hire _two_ rooms, at least, one for Jacob and one for Leah and myself," she whispered as they entered the public dining area. Bella had never shared a bed in her life, but she was more than willing to make allowances.

"That's not 'ow servants travel." Leah caught her mistress by the arm, directing her to a space at a long trestle table in the crowded room. "If we 'ire two rooms it would be like advertising you're 'ere," she added once they'd taken their seats.

Bella blushed, embarrassed by her naivety. When she'd travelled with her father, they had stayed in much nicer establishments. Miss Brewer, her governess, had slept in a room attached to hers, and she was sure her father would have provided for the other servants.

Sensing her confusion, Jacob leaned over. "The better-quality inns 'ave rooms for the servants, but Lord Hunter ain't likely to look for us here."

Nodding, Bella kept her eyes on the plate of stewed meat a serving girl placed in front of her. Having only ever drunk light sherry or fruit wines, she wasn't sure what to make of the ale that accompanied the meal.

"Just sip slowly, Miss Isabella." Jacob smiled encouragingly. "It'll 'elp ye sleep tonight."

"That's another thing," Leah whispered. "Ye can't go using yer real name until this is sorted. How about ye use the name yer mother called ye when ye was a little girl, Bella. Ye could be Bella Brown?"

"Aye, that's a good idea." Jacob nodded.

Bella sat back before agreeing in a voice that shook. "Very well... Bella Brown." She regularly thought of herself as Bella, as it was a way to keep her mother's memory alive. Giving up her father's name caused a lump to form in her throat.

While her companions continued eating, she pushed the overly salted stew around her plate. The crowd around them was growing noisier as the ale took effect. A loud burst of laughter caught her attention, and she looked up to see a group of men grab hold of one of the serving girls and pull her across their laps. Her peasant blouse was cut very low and pulled down across one shoulder, almost baring her ample breasts. Bella was horrified for the poor girl, until she saw she was smiling and joining in with the strange banter.

"Ye'll have to show me some coin before ye take yer pleasure." The girl laughed, crawling off the men's laps while they continued to paw at her.

"How about I show ye what's in me pants, Annie?' one of them shouted. "Ye'll be so impressed, ye'll offer to do me for free!"

The room broke out into raucous laughter, and Bella stared, bewildered.

"Come on. Let's get out of here.' Jacob urged the girls to their feet.

"Shouldn't we try and help her?" Bella asked, unwittingly drawing attention.

Shouts and catcalls rang out as Jacob herded the two young women from the room, careful to keep his body between them and the men who had directed their focus the girls' way. Grimy hands reached out to paw at Bella's skirt as they hurried by, the comments of the men, lewd and baffling.

"I am sorry," she said when they were behind the closed door to their tiny room. "I didn't mean to . . . to . . ."

"It's not yer fault." Leah gave her arm a pat. "Ruffians like that will go after anything in a skirt, but we need to find ye a better coat. Yers is too fitted and shows off every curve."

Bella gasped, shocked that her maid would speak of such things in front of a man.

"Ye're right," Jacob said, as he made a bed for himself on the floor, leaving the narrow cot for the girls to share. "Maybe we can trade Bella's coat in the morning for one from a larger girl, so it will hide her figure better."

As they continued to discuss their plans to keep her safe, Bella lay huddled against the wall. The mattress was thin and lumpy, and she couldn't imagine sleeping in such a tight space. Not that sleep was very likely with all the frightening images playing over in her mind. She still couldn't believe Lord Hunter had shot her father, or that her beloved Papa was dead. Tears coursed down her cheeks at the dreadful memory.

"It's all right." Leah put her arm around Bella's shaking shoulders. "Jacob and me will keep ye safe."

While she very much appreciated her offer, Bella couldn't imagine ever feeling safe again.

~I~

The next few days followed a similar pattern . . . barely edible meals, long days journeying in crowded, poorly-sprung public coaches, and nights in rough inns and alehouses. It was a little easier to avoid attention in the over-sized coat Leah traded for Bella's more fitted one, but the men still noticed her. Their comments and gestures were baffling, but when she asked Leah to explain, her maid refused.

"Ye've led a very sheltered life, which is proper for one of yer class. If yer mother had lived, she would 'ave explained some things to ye by now, but it's not me place. Yer father's done 'is best to protect ye, maybe a little too much. I don't think he would want me enlightenin' ye to all the filth that goes on in the world."

"But the threats Lord Hunter made enraged Papa. He spoke of _sharing_ me with other men?"

Leah shuddered. "Ye were raised a lady, and ye'll be one again once yer with the duke. There's no need to frighten yerself wiv things that'll never 'appen."

Although frustrated by her continued incomprehension, Bella let the matter drop. She might be ignorant of the details, but of one thing she was certain. Whatever Lord Hunter's plans might be, she must avoid them at all costs.

Six days after leaving home, the weary group arrived in the town closest to Worthington Hall. To their dismay, the village of Worthy was abuzz with news of the Duke of Worthington's recent nuptials to the widowed Lady Platt. Their Graces had left for their honeymoon on the Continent not two days prior, and they weren't expected home for several months.

"Just breathe." Leah pushed Bella's head between her knees. It was an undignified pose but, at least, it stopped the world from spinning.

"Whatever am I to do?" She sat back up when the dizziness passed. "I can't stay hidden for _months._ "

"We don't have enough money to keep us for that long." Jacob's brow furrowed in concern. "I asked the innkeeper, and the only work 'ereabouts is at the Hall. Leah and I could 'ire on, but the pay won't be enough for us to put you up anywhere, not that we'd see any coin for at least a month."

"You can't do that." Bella shook her head. "You need to return home to your families."

"What about if Bella hired on at the Hall while she awaits the Duke's return?"

"As a servant?" Jacob's dumbfounded expression matched Bella's dropped jaw.

"She'd be safer than out in the world on 'er own." The maid shrugged. "If the baron tracks her down, 'e'll force her to marry 'im, and that'll be the end of that." Bella flinched, and Leah shot her an apologetic glance.

"But Bella is a lady. She doesn't know anything about being a servant." Jacob frowned.

"It _might_ work." Bella warmed to Leah's idea as she considered a potential benefit of her father's less than typical household. When her mother had escaped with him from France, she was accompanied by the faithful family retainers who had kept her safe during the long years of unrest after the _Terror_. Louis, a talented pastry chef, could have found employment with the highest families of the _ton_ , but he had stayed on after his mistress's death. Bella had dogged his footsteps when she was younger, picking up some unusual skills for a girl of her class, skills she had kept secret from their local society, of course.

"I might be able to find work in the kitchen as an assistant to the pastry chef," she said.

"Aye, yer cakes and pastries are first class." Jacob nodded thoughtfully, the servants most willing recipients of her efforts. "But yer voice, yer soft hands, yer ignorance of the life . . . they'll give ye away in a heartbeat."

Bella didn't disagree but was unable to think of a better option.

"Ye'll be all right, Miss," Leah assured her. "I've spoken to some of the locals, and they say the Duke discourages fraternisation. He insists his female staff are able to work unmolested."

"Unmolested?" Bella frowned.

"She means ye'll be safe working at the Hall," Jacob said, a blush colouring his cheeks.

"That's good then, isn't it?"

Bella's companions were silent for a moment before nodding in unison.

Frowning as if in deep thought, Jacob shook his head before saying, "At least let me give ye some ideas on how to protect yerself."

Unsure what she might encounter, Bella agreed, but Jacob's almost incomprehensible instructions causing her eyes to widen.

"Don't worry. Ye shouldn't need to use it."

Bella attempted a smile, deciding to put such abstract concerns aside. "What I _do_ need is a plan to explain my less than common speech and demeanour."

After mulling over the problem while eating their luncheon, Jacob and Leah helped her to devise a story. Bella wasn't sure how plausible it was, but she hoped it was better than nothing.

~I~

Her leave taking was quiet, Jacob arranging for Bella to travel the remaining distance to Worthington Hall with a merchant delivering goods. After taking her seat beside the taciturn driver, she waved goodbye to the servants whom she now counted as friends more than ever. Turning to face the brown cob as it strained against the traces, tears clogging her throat, she did not look back.

~I~

 **Oh gosh...this is an angsty beginning!**

 **I've noticed that many of the chapters are quite short in this story. I'm not sure why they've been broken up that way, but there you have it. On a positive note, there are 70 of them, so we can enjoy our daily dose for quite some time!**

 **xx Elise**


	3. Charade

**Hello again! I spent the day with my gorgeous granddaughter spoiling us both rotten, which means I have bought quite a number of books and toys, spent several hours floating around in a blow up ring at the local aquatic centre, and then finished the day with a play in Smaland (for her, not me) and then dinner at IKEA. All in all, not a bad day. I hope yours was/is equally fun and relaxing. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 3 - Charade**

The towering forests between the village of Worthy and the Duke's estate seemed to go on forever, the dark, green canopy creating an eerie approximation of night. Shivering in the thin coat Leah had traded for her more formfitting one, Bella was relieved when they broke through into the pale, late winter light.

"Good heavens," she whispered, rising from the seat when Worthington Hall came into view.

"Aye, it affects everyone like that when they first sees it." The merchant chuckled. "But ye'd best be sittin' back down, as we've still a fair way to go."

The road before them split in two, veering to either side of a long, roughly rectangular shaped lake that stretched for furlongs up the valley. Beyond the lake lay elaborate formal gardens, a sweeping circular drive, and a house that could only rightly be described as a castle.

And not a quaint, fairy book castle.

Bella had told herself the Duke was the same person who had brought her gifts and enjoyed the cherry tarts she had baked when she was a girl. But it was difficult to reconcile the man who had asked her to call him Uncle with the nobleman who made this intimidating edifice his home. She shuddered to think what would become of her if His Grace—it seemed more appropriate to think of him that way—was unwilling to come to her aid.

As they drew closer to the grand mansion, she was stunned by its sheer size. Swan Manor, the second-largest house in all Forkton, would be lost in a small corner of one of Worthington Hall's many wings. Looking up and up, Bella gulped as they passed beneath the towering stone walls on their way around to the service courtyard.

The merchant pulled the cart to a halt, and workers quickly approached to assist with the unloading.

"Knock on that door over to the left and ask to see Mrs Cope," he said. "She's the 'ead 'ousekeeper and will take care of ye. I'll be 'ere for a while 'aving a cuppa in the kitchen if ye want to send a message back to yer friends letting 'em know ye've found a position."

After thanking him, Bella lowered herself from the cart, congratulating herself on accomplishing the feat without assistance. Grabbing her small bag from under the seat, she brushed off her dusty skirts and walked towards the servants' entrance feeling less than presentable. She'd been a young girl the last time she had worn a dress for an entire day, but she had never worn the same gown for six days in a row.

A young lad of about ten opened the door at Bella's knock, looking up at her from beneath his sandy fringe.

"Can I 'elp ye, miss?"

"May I speak with Mrs Cope, the head housekeeper, please? My name is Miss Bella Brown."

The boy's mouth dropped open, but he did not speak, so she continued, "I'm not expected but am hoping Mrs Cope will grant me an interview. I'm here to apply for a position in the household."

Bella's smile faded when the boy continued to stare without speaking.

"Oi, wots the 'oldup, Seth? Someone boverin' ye again, or 'as the cat got yer tongue?"

A large, bearded man wearing a bloodstained apron manhandled the boy out of the way. He glared at Bella, and then his eyes widened.

"Oi! Excuse me, my lady." He bobbed an incongruous-looking bow, his belly interfering with the movement. "The boy didn't mean no 'arm. Ye've been sent to the wrong door, is all."

"I have? I am here to speak with Mrs Cope about obtaining a position in the household. Is there another entrance I should approach?"

Bella's request was met with silence, the large man and the lad gaping at her like she was a two-headed lamb at a travelling fair.

"But ye're a _lady_ , ain't ye?" The butcher frowned and looked her up and down several times.

Bella's heart sank. She had not even made it past the door without discovery. This was going to be more difficult than she had expected.

"Of course, I'm not a lady," she said, happy to be able to tell the truth, at least in part. While a legitimate member of society, her father was the grandson of a baron, an honourable but a mere mister before his knighthood. Consequently, Bella was a miss, not a lady.

"I'm here to find employment." She stuck to her story, not knowing what else to do.

The man's mouth opened and closed like a fish, revealing some alarmingly blackened teeth. Bella took a step back and would have fallen off the stoop, but a quick-thinking footman caught her around the waist, giving her a chance to steady herself.

"Well, well, what have we 'ere? A pretty little miss, I'll wager." The fair-haired young man winked.

While flustered, Bella was pleased, as it was obvious the footman had not assumed she was a lady. He would have been out of a job if he had dared speak to one in such a manner.

"She says she's after an inta . . . inter . . . She wants to talk with Mrs Cope about a job," the lad said.

"In that case, let me escort ye. The name's Mike Newton, and it would be me pleasure."

The young man's smile was overly familiar, and Bella returned it hesitantly.

"Thank you, Mr Newton. That would be very kind of you," she said, her smile fading when he faltered at the sound of her well-rounded tones. They were clearly going to be a problem, but while Bella had always been good at languages, she suspected the distorted vowels of the local vernacular were beyond her ability to mimic.

"This way, then." Mike directed her past the curious kitchen workers.

The room they entered was used for butchering, and Bella averted her eyes from the gruesome sights. The hallway beyond was pleasant but plain, and after a short walk, they reached what she assumed must be the housekeeper's office.

"Good luck then, miss." The footman hesitated, fiddling with the buttons on his red livery vest. "I guess I'll be seein' ye . . . if ye stay."

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr Newton," she said, placing her now battered bag at her feet.

"Just Mike." He tugged at his forelock before frowning and backing away down the hallway.

Bella sighed and gripped her hands tightly together to stop them from shaking. Her father had taught her to treat people with respect regardless of class, but her manner set her apart from the role she was pretending to play. She could only hope the story she had concocted would cover the discrepancies.

Before long, a neat, grey-haired woman approached, and Bella stood to attention.

"I'm Mrs Cope, the head housekeeper," she said. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Miss Bella Brown. I am here to apply for a position as an assistant pastry cook, or failing such a position being available, wherever I may be of service."

The woman stared, unblinking, for a moment before ushering her through to the office.

"Take a seat, Miss Brown, and start at the beginning."

Bella did as she was bid, wishing she'd had more time to check her tale for flaws. "My father managed an inn near the seaside, one that caters to well-to-do holiday makers. I worked mostly in the kitchen assisting the French pastry chef."

She tried to sound confident, as this part of her story was based in truth.

"I also assisted with serving in the dining room," she added, having seen it done often enough to be confident she knew what was required. "And occasionally in general cleaning and tidying." The latter, Bella had not done since she was a girl, following Mrs Waters around when her mother was busy.

"My father died very recently, leaving me orphaned." The grief this statement elicited was genuine, and it took her a moment to regain her composure. "He told me if anything happened to him, I should come to Worthington Hall and apply for a position, that I would be _safe_ here."

After Bella's tale, the housekeeper studied her intently while drumming her fingers on the scarred but polished desktop.

"It is clear to me you have received a level of education far above the norm for a pastry cook," she said, and Bella tensed, hoping this part of her story would stand up to scrutiny.

"My mother was from a good family. When she died, my father employed a governess to continue my education in keeping with her wishes."

"I see." The housekeeper responded after a pause. "Your father was wise to recommend you make the journey to Worthington Hall. A young woman with your _assets_ could easily be taken advantage of." She looked Bella up and down before adding with a frown, "It is clear you are no stranger to tragedy, Miss Brown. I am just not sure how well-acquainted you are with hard work."

Bella's leg began to jiggle, and she stilled it with a hand to her knee.

After another long pause, the housekeeper stood and motioned for her to follow as she left the office and walked briskly down the corridor.

"I shall give you a trial with our pastry chef tomorrow afternoon, but we're also in need of junior maids. With all the extra guests who have stayed on after the Duke's wedding, there's no shortage of chores to be done."

Entering a storage room, Mrs Cope began to remove items of clothing from the shelves, piling them in Bella's arms.

"Here is your uniform. Staff rise at five-thirty, breakfast promptly at six. Do not be late. The household keeps country hours, so breakfast must be available from seven-thirty until ten. Morning tea is served at eleven and luncheon at one. Staff take their midday and evening meals after the household is served. You will present yourself to Chef Peters in the kitchen after lunch tomorrow and remain there until eight, then you will be excused to spend your free time in your room. Lights out at ten. You will receive half a day off per week as well as the opportunity to attend a service at the chapel on the grounds every second Sunday."

Bella swallowed hard. She didn't normally rise until eight in the morning and was used to considerable freedom when it came to her schedule. After the harrowing week she had just experienced, she was sorely in need of a rest . . . one she clearly was not going to get.

Mrs Cope closed the door to the storeroom and instructed her to change into her uniform. She hesitated, uncomfortable undressing in front of a virtual stranger.

"Hurry up, Miss Brown. I don't have all day."

With little choice, Bella began to undo the buttons of her tired-looking gown.

"Just as I thought," the housekeeper muttered. "Not at all the attire I would expect of an innkeeper's daughter. Other than your coat, you are dressed in superior quality garments right down to your petticoats and silk stockings." Her eyebrows rose as she waited for an explanation.

"Please, ma'am. I need employment and somewhere safe to live."

"You are obviously running from something. An unwelcome betrothal?"

It was certainly unwelcome, and Bella shuddered at the thought of being forced to wed Lord Hunter. "I am not betrothed," she insisted, regardless of what the baron might say. "I just couldn't remain where I was with my father gone."

"What of family, connections? Are you completely without protection?"

Bella hesitated. The Duke of Worthington's support should prove to be all the protection she required . . . if she was able to avoid discovery until his return.

"I'm all alone. There's no one."

"What of your mother's family, or was she disowned for marrying beneath herself?"

Bella blinked at the conclusion the housekeeper had drawn from the meagre facts she had given her.

"I never met my mother's family," she said truthfully.

"Hmm. Orphaned, without protection, and can I assume penniless?"

She nodded, her mother's necklace part of the secret she must keep.

"What of your tale of working with a French pastry chef? Is that a fabrication?"

"No, ma'am. Chef Louis is an excellent chef and taught me a great deal." If that part of her story had not been true, Bella doubted she would have had the courage to attempt the subterfuge.

Mrs Cope studied her for a moment longer before releasing a sigh.

"Wait here. I shall bring you some spare underclothes and nightwear. It would be best if you put yours away. It _might_ make it easier for you to fit in with the rest of the staff." The last was said with a shake of the housekeeper's head.

After giving her the replacement clothing, she left Bella to dress in private. The chemise, and petticoat were made from coarse cloth, worn thin from repeated washings. Bella donned the long-sleeved white blouse, heavy black skirt, and white, ruffled apron that comprised her new uniform then put her low-heeled black boots on over the woollen stockings she'd been given.

At least she looked the part. If she could curb her upper-class tones and hard-won ladylike demeanour, she might have a chance of succeeding at this charade.

 **~I~**

 **She's got a foot in the door, so that's a start. Accents are pesky things and not always easy to get rid of . . . or mimic.**

 **I hope you're not finding these shorter chapters too annoying. I considered combining two at a time, but then we'll get through the tale twice as fast, and this is my last 'pre-written' story!**

 **xx Elise**


	4. The Lordships

**Hi Everyone!** **There are only about 500 of you taking this journey with me, which is perfectly understandable, as this story has been around in various forms for quite a while now! Still, I would like to say a big '** **Thank you!' to everyone taking the time to review...even though many of you have read this before. It's very kind of you and really brings the story back to life for me again.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~!~**

 **Chapter 4 - The Lordships**

"I shall pair you up with Jessica and Angela, both experienced girls," Mrs Cope instructed as she ascended the stairs, Bella running to keep up. She followed the housekeeper along another corridor to a workroom where two uniformed maids were sitting, polishing silverware. The introductions were made in a perfunctory manner and the girls admonished not to dally with their work.

"Ye're not from the village, are ye?" one of the maids asked, as Bella took her place at the table, cloth in hand. Angela looked to be quite young, her dark brown hair tied neatly in a bun.

"I'm from a little town near the seaside."

Both girls' eyes widened at Bella's clearly enunciated words.

"Wot ye doin' 'ere then?" Jessica, a plump girl with curly blond hair, demanded.

"I had heard this is a safe place to work." Bella smiled tentatively.

Jessica's lips pursed, while Angela ducked her head.

"It is _safe_ here?"

"Oh, yes." Angela nodded. "Very safe. Ye've got no worries workin' for His Grace, even when 'e's away."

"Too bloody safe, if ye ask me." Jessica grumbled.

After the week she had spent sleeping rough in public inns, Bella was becoming somewhat immune to bad language, but she was shocked to hear a maid from a prominent household speak in such a manner.

"There's no such thing as too safe," Angela said.

"That's yer opinion. I 'appen to like fraternisin' with the fellas."

"Well, ye should have thought of that before ye left yer last position and came to Worthington Hall."

"Why did you come here?" Bella asked Jessica, fascinated by the byplay.

The maid broke into giggles. " 'Cos the Cullen lords are the best-looking toffs in all the Empire. 'Ow was I to know His Grace's rules meant they'd 'ave to keep it in their breeches?"

"What makes ye think they'd be interested in ye?" Angela said. "Besides, I thought ye liked Mike."

"I've 'ad no trouble getting the attention of the lords afore." Jessica shrugged. "And it's not like Mike wants more than a tussle in the store room."

The room fell silent, and Bella mulled over the odd conversation. She had a feeling these girls could help divest her of her ignorance regarding the ways of the world which, she suspected, might be wise.

While polishing the piles of silverware, the two maids kept glancing towards the windows that looked down on a vast, cobblestone courtyard. Beyond it, Bella could see the stables situated to the east of the Hall. Although curious about what the girls were looking at, or for, she refrained from asking. The less she spoke the better until she had worked her fabricated story into the conversation to explain her speech.

At a noise from outside, both girls raced to the window and knelt down to peer below. Bella hesitated, not wanting to be caught shirking her duties her first hour of employment. But her curiosity soon got the better of her, and she crept over to kneel beside them. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of four gentlemen on horseback, four exceedingly handsome-looking gentlemen.

"Who are they?" she asked.

"The lordships," Angela whispered.

"The big one with the curly hair is Lord Emmett Cullen, Viscount McCarty. He's the Duke's nephew, his younger brother's son, but he's lived 'ere for years now. His parents got taken off in an epidemic when he was a lad," Jessica explained.

"The tall one with the beard is Lord Jasper Whitlock. His father's an earl with estates in Scotland," Angela added. "And the smaller black-haired one is Lord Peter Edgeley, a baron. He arrived a few days afore the weddin'."

"Then there's Edward." Jessica sighed.

"That's _Lord_ Edward Cullen, Marquis of Masen, and the Duke of Worthington's heir," Angela said sternly before giggling. "And wivout a doubt, the best-lookin' man alive."

Bella did not disagree.

The Duke had spoken of his son on numerous occasions, but he had failed to mention how handsome he was. The marquis rode tall in the saddle, his broad shoulders and straight back cutting a fine figure. His dark hair held a hint of red and was tousled from the ride. Blessed with a high forehead and arching brows, his jaw-line looked like it had been chiselled by a master sculptor.

"Heavens above," Bella whispered, a strange sensation causing her stomach to flutter.

"Yeah well, don't be gettin' no ideas," Jessica said. "If I've not been able to tempt 'im to break 'is father's no fraternisin' rules, I don't see why ye should."

"Of course not." Bella's cheeks flamed. High-ranking lords did not spend time socialising with serving maids, and she wondered at Jessica's believing otherwise.

If Bella had not been masquerading as a commoner, things might have been different. Before her life had been torn from its foundations, she had been busy preparing for her first London season. She would have probably been introduced to Lord Masen as a peer . . . of sorts. Nothing would have come of it, of course, regardless of their fathers' friendship. He was a nobleman, a descendant of King Charles the Second. Bella, on the other hand, was a girl with unfashionable colouring from an inconsequential family.

"Lord Masen doesn't normally spend too much time at Worthington Hall, as 'e's got his own estate, but he's promised to take care of some business for His Grace while 'e's away." Angela said.

"Lord McCarty and his wife, Rosalie, Lady McCarty, live 'ere most of the time, as their main estate is in Ireland, and she doesn't care for it over there. She's the lady of the house while the Duke and 'is new Duchess, Esme, are away. Not sure wot's goin' to 'appen when they return, as Lady McCarty won't like losing her place," Jessica added as the gentlemen dismounted and handed their horses over to a flurry of grooms.

"Watch out for Lady McCarty." Angela sent Bella a warning look. "She's impossible to please."

"She's a right bitch, ye mean. Make's ye feel sorry for Lord McCarty. I hear she only lets him share her bed once a week— _if_ he's lucky—and 'e's in an' out so quick it's 'ardly worth the mention."

Bella frowned, shocked by Jessica's language and perplexed by her disclosure. It was customary for married members of society to keep separate bedrooms, so she could see naught wrong with the arrangement.

"What of the other lords? Are they married?" she asked.

Angela shook her head. "Lord Whitlock is Lord Masen's best friend. I think he's 'opin' to match 'im with 'is sister, Lady Alice. They'd make a good pair, 'im bein' 'eir to an earldom and all. Lord Whitlock's got a bit of an eye for the ladies, but 'e don't seem too bad. Lord Edgeley's a recent visitor, sniffin' around after Lady Alice's inheritance and tryin' to get a foot in before she makes 'er debut. But 'e's wasting 'is time, as 'e's only a baron. Don't trust 'im wotever ye do. He's got wandering 'ands."

"Miss Alice's been right flattered by 'is attention," Jessica said without averting her gaze from the spectacle below. "He's a randy bugger, but only the girls in the village are gettin' to enjoy 'is favours." She scowled. "Bloody 'no fraternisin' rules."

Bella covered her mouth to stifle a gasp.

"Lord Masen's determined to stay a bachelor despite the best efforts of the society mamas," Angela added, appearing unfazed by her friend's outlandish comments and crude language. "Every other month, there's a new rumour of 'is bein' engaged to some toffee-nosed miss, but nothin' ever comes of it. I reckon the ladies start the rumours themselves, but he's too cagey to be caught like that."

In a household as small as her father's, the staff seemed more like family than servants, but Bella was surprised by how much the girls knew about the private lives of the nobles they served. Crouching beside them, with her attention fixed on the handsome lords conversing not far beneath their window, it was Edward who held her interest.

She had no right to think of him by his Christian name, as they had not been introduced let alone being intimately acquainted. But she very much liked the sound of it, just as she very much liked the look of the man. While all four gentlemen were a sight to behold, there was something about the Duke's son that caused her heart to race. Not normally one to behave giddily in the presence of a gentleman, Bella was unsettled by her response. She could only assume it was caused by the knowledge Edward was the son of her potential benefactor.

Without warning, he looked up, staring directly at the window behind which the girls were kneeling. Jessica and Angela squealed and ducked down below the sill, but Bella remained where she was, boldly returning his gaze.

Truth be told, she was frozen immobile.

Time seemed to stand still, the sounds of the great house fading away as her attention was captivated by the handsome young man standing in the courtyard below. From this distance, she was unable to make out the colour of his eyes, but his gaze was arresting and held her fixed in place. As he continued to stare up at her, a faint hope rose in Bella's heart. She had promised her father she would trust no one besides the Duke, a promise she was loath to break. But she couldn't help wondering if his son might help her in his stead.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of work, introductions, more work, a hearty meal hastily eaten, and then more work before the girls were released to trudge up three flights of stairs to their attic room. Bella had never been so tired in her life, and the thought of rising at five the next morning to do it all again filled her with dread.

After stowing her belongings in the small timber chest at the foot of her narrow bed, she hid her mother's necklace beneath the thin mattress of her cot. Her evening bath consisted of a quick wash from a bowl of water she filled from a barrel in the hallway. The water was ice cold, but at this point, she was just grateful she hadn't had to lug the buckets up the stairs herself.

Despite her exhaustion, sleep was elusive, as her overtired mind kept repeating the events of both the day and previous week. Bella missed her father and home terribly and wondered what would become of her. Overwhelmed by her drastic change in circumstance, she cried herself to sleep.

 **~I~**

 **Life can be very tough sometimes, especially when we're grieving and have to keep going like nothing has happened. I've certainly had to do my share of that, though in my experience, grief can't be suppressed indefinitely. At least Bella got to make some new, if interesting, friends, plus she got to view 'the Lordships', and we can all agree they would have been a sight to behold. ;)**

 **xx Elise**

 **PS Duty and Desire has been nominated for completed fics for March over at TwiFanFictionRecs. It feels greedy to even mention it after last months astonishing result, but I thought I'd let you know in case anyone wants to vote for it...or one of the other terrific stories that have been nominated.**


	5. The New Girl

**Oops! I nearly forgot this evening's chapter. It's been a long day!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 5 - The New Girl**

Morning came too soon, and Bella groaned as she lifted her aching body from the bed.

"It'll get easier." Angela offered her a sympathetic smile. "It's busier than usual at the moment with all the guests stayin' on from the weddin'. Oh, that was hectic but the loveliest sight ye can imagine. Are ye out of practice, or was the last place ye worked at smaller than this?"

"A bit of both." Bella smiled wanly. After splashing icy water on her face, she donned her uniform then ran her brush through her tangled curls. She had managed to take her hair down the night before, though the plait she had tied it in before climbing into her narrow bed was rough to say the least. Her new sleeping companions eyed her feeble attempts to put it up in a bun sceptically.

"Ye've never done yer own hair, 'ave ye?" Jessica shook her head in disbelief.

Bella feared her ineptitude was stretching the credibility of her fabricated tale.

"My, er . . . friend, Leah, used to put it up for me."

"I'll 'elp ye this once," Angela said. "But ye'll 'ave to do it yerself in future. We don't 'ave much time in the morning."

Bella listened carefully as Angela explained the process, holding up the little mirror they had to share between the three of them, so she could follow each step.

"Ye've got the most beautiful 'air." Angela smiled shyly.

"Really?" Bella blinked in surprise. "But it's _red?_ "

"Aye, a lovely dark red with the prettiest gold highlights."

She wasn't used to being complimented on her hair. The local society ladies had made sure to enlighten Bella to the inappropriateness of her colouring when they had taken the motherless girl under their wing.

"There's nothing to be done about it." Lady Mallory's face had twisted into her most disapproving expression. "But the fact remains, a true lady should not possess hair the colour of spring vegetables."

Bella had giggled, imagining the portly madam with bright green hair, but her smile had soon faded. The other girls had teased her mercilessly, Lady Mallory's daughter, Lauren, in particular.

"I was told only _whores_ have red hair." Bella braced herself for her fellow maids' reactions, willing to take the risk to finally learn the word's meaning. When she had asked her father about it, he had told her to take no notice but not to mention the word in public as it wasn't fitting for a young lady's vocabulary.

"Oh piffle." Angela tucked a stray curl into place. "Whoever said so was just jealous. You've got gorgeous hair. It goes wonderfully with your green eyes."

"My cousin has red hair, and she's a whore." Jessica sighed. "The fellas certainly like it, at least, that's what she reckons. Says she gets twice as many blokes as the other girls wanting her to spread her legs of a night. Right curse it is. She'd give anything to have brown hair or even blond, but red hair's the one they want 'cos of stupid stories wot get told."

"Can we please not talk about it?" Angela asked.

Bella was about to insist they continue, Jessica's remarks spawning numerous questions, when she noticed Angela had gone quite pale. Her whole body was trembling, and Jessica put a comforting arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

"Sorry, lass." The blustery blonde revealed an unexpectedly motherly side with her gentle tone. "Didn't mean to upset ye. Yer safe 'ere, even with the Duke away. His Grace threatened the devil's own fire for anyone that messes with ye."

Angela gave a jerky nod then headed for the door at the sound of their names being called. Concerned for the girl and more confused than ever, Bella followed behind.

~I~

Breakfast was served promptly at six, plain food amply supplied. After helping the other maids dry a mountain of dishes, Bella went with them to the dining room where breakfast was to be served for the household. It was an impressive-looking room, but it apparently paled in comparison to the more formal dining room where luncheon was served. Depending on the numbers, which could vary from a handful to dozens, dinner was served in even more distinguished surroundings. The girls explained she might get a glimpse of these rooms if she was on cleaning duty, but only the butler, under butlers, and senior footmen served at luncheon or dinner. The maids helped with breakfast as it was served buffet-style, a highlight of their very long day.

"Lady McCarty and the other ladies sleep late and 'ave their breakfast in bed," Angela explained as they made their way to the breakfast room.

"Thank God for small mercies," Jessica muttered.

"What about Lady Alice? Will she be down for breakfast?" Bella was curious, as she had hoped to meet the Duke's daughter one day.

"Oh, no. His Grace 'ad 'er sent off to stay with his sister when he went on his 'oneymoon. He wasn't about to leave 'er 'ere with Lords Whitlock and Edgeley sniffin' around, even with a half-dozen great aunts and uncles and 'er brother and cousin 'ere to act as chaperone."

Bella nodded, pleased to have some understanding of the situation. The importance of a young lady protecting her reputation had been drummed into her over the previous few years, along with the importance of parental or mature chaperonage.

Arriving at their destination, the girls set to work spreading linen tablecloths and setting the tables. At least, Bella knew where to put the cutlery. When ornate carts arrived with fruit platters, pastries, and piping hot covered dishes, they positioned the plates on the long sideboard for the household members and guests to serve themselves. It was the maids' job to clear away the used dishes and replace or refill others as required. They were also experienced at pouring the guests' hot beverages, something the other girls assured Bella she would not be required to do.

Her leg jiggled with nervous anticipation as the usual time for the lordships' arrival approached.

"Keep still," Angela whispered, and Bella blushed to hear the oft-spoken admonishment delivered by a maid. Her tendency to fidget had been a problem for as long as she could recall. Of all the talents she was supposed to have mastered to prove her credentials as a lady of quality, riding was the only one that had come naturally. Barely passable at the pianoforte, she hated embroidery, and her singing was better left unsung. She did like to sketch and could discuss the weather in several languages, which hopefully counted for something.

Bella's attention refocused when the door opened, and lords McCarty, Whitlock, and Edgeley entered the dining room. Talking and laughing together, they were dressed for riding in cream jodhpurs, long black Hessians, and tightly fitted hacking jackets, looking every bit as handsome as she recalled from the day before.

The girls let out a collective sigh of appreciation and bobbed their curtsies, the men merely glancing their way without responding. Bella frowned, unnerved to be dismissed in such a manner. Under normal circumstances, she would have expected a proper introduction, greetings, and at least a few moments of idle discourse from the gentlemen, not appraising looks and no direct comment at all.

The three men filled their plates and then took their seats at the table as they continued their discussion of an upcoming hunt. Lord McCarty signalled for a cup of tea. Mr Henson, the head butler, nodded to Angela who wasted no time taking the tea service to the table and filling Lord McCarty's cup before moving on to Lord Whitlock.

"I would rather coffee." Lord Edgeley waved Angela away, his gaze upon Jessica who smiled and swayed her ample hips as she collected the coffee pot.

Bella gaped at the girl's shameless display and Lord Edgeley's extraordinary response. Smiling up at Jessica, he rested a hand on her hip as she served him. While Bella had witnessed worse behaviour in the public inns on her journey from Forkton, she had not expected to see such familiarity in a ducal manor. More than a little shocked, she glanced over at Angela who shrugged one shoulder and then motioned for her to face forward. A few moments later, Edward entered the room, and Bella needed all her concentration to remain standing.

Up close, the Duke of Worthington's heir was even more handsome than he had appeared from a distance. He walked across the room towards the buffet with long, easy strides before glancing at Bella and coming to an abrupt halt. His eyes, deep green and heavily lashed, sparked with an emotion she did not recognise.

"You."

His brow furrowed, and Bella took a step back. Feeling a blush rising in her cheeks, she wished she was still young enough to wear her hair down. Hiding behind it would have given her a semblance of protection, not that she would have had that option in her current position as a servant. Dropping her gaze, she bobbed a curtsy, remembering not to sweep low to the ground as she had trained to do under her governess, Miss Brewer's, strict guidance. When she glanced up, Edward hadn't moved.

"Quit scowling at the new girl, Ed," his cousin chided. "She can't help being a beauty, and you know you can't touch. Stop torturing yourself and eat."

"Bloody hell, Emmett. Do you have to be so blunt?"

"Just saying what we're all thinking." Lord McCarty grinned. "I noticed her as soon as I walked in the door, but _I'm_ a married man. I don't ogle."

"About the only thing you don't do." Lord Whitlock's tone was wry.

"Not true. Well, not often and certainly not under Uncle Carlisle's roof."

"Not where Rosalie might find out and put your balls in a vice, you mean," Edward drawled.

It was all Bella could do not to gasp out loud. If she'd had any doubts about her change in station, they were dispelled by this shocking conversation. Gentlemen of the _ton_ did not, under any circumstances, swear or speak crudely in front of a lady.

The marquis filled his plate, glancing Bella's way several times, his frown etching creases in his brow. After he had taken his seat, he motioned for a cup of coffee, shaking his head when Jessica went to attend him.

"The new girl," he said, staring straight at Bella.

Startled by the unexpected command, she glanced up at Mr Henson who nodded warily. With considerable trepidation, she went to the sideboard and collected the silver coffee service, before making her cautious way to Edward's seat and placing the rattling tray on the table. With trembling fingers, she went to lift the coffee pot, but he put his hand over hers, holding her in place. A tingling sensation raced up her arm at his touch, and Bella drew in a quick breath.

"I think you'd best let me pour," he said, looking up at her through his thick lashes. "I don't fancy having my vital equipment scalded this early in the day."

Bella froze, captivated by his emerald gaze and the way his lip curved into a smirk. When his words registered, she tried to pull away, but he held her hand in place.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that! I mean I would try not to," she said before conceding. "Well, maybe it would be best if you poured. I'm just as likely to spill the contents in your lap as get any in the cup . . . um . . . my lord."

Edward's eyebrows disappeared beneath his fringe, Henson cleared his throat, and Jessica giggled. Noting the stunned expressions of the rest of the room's occupants, Bella realised she had committed a significant faux pas. Serving girls did not speak, unless asked a direct question, and they certainly did not offer rambling commentary on their incompetence.

To her relief, the marquis burst out laughing, and she gave a tentative smile in response.

"Maybe we can manage it together," he said with a grin, lifting the coffee pot with his large hand wrapped around hers.

"Here, allow me, my lord." Mr Henson stepped forward.

"Ah, leave him, Henson." Lord McCarty waved a hand. "He's just having a little fun with the girl. God knows, it's as close as he'll get with His Grace's expectations hanging over his head."

"Enough, Emmett. You have made your point." Edward's smile faded.

As soon as he released her hand, Bella beat a hasty retreat to her place near the wall. Glancing back at the table, she saw he was staring at her again, and she ducked her head, her blush a permanent fixture.

More guests arrived, all male, and began to serve themselves breakfast. Staying clear of the tables, Bella focused on clearing and restocking the sideboard. A few of the men made comments to Jessica, who did not seem to mind at all, and to Angela, who kept her head down and her skirts away from straying hands. Bella heard several references to the 'new girl,' her attention captured when she heard an unwelcome name.

"So, what's Hunter up to now?" Lord Whitlock asked. "You're his friend, Edgeley. Are you keeping track of his misdemeanours?"

Lord Edgeley sat forward, his tone that of a man divulging a secret. "I have just received news Hunter's come into a nice little inheritance, a minor one, but quite the juicy plum. Should help him out of the bother he's in. Inheriting a barony's all very well, but his father didn't leave him enough funds to maintain an adequate lifestyle."

Bella's heart lodged in her throat at the carelessly spoken words. Here was the proof she had been dreading. Her father was dead, and Lord Hunter had gotten away with murder.

"Well, that's good to hear." Edward joined the conversation. "Maybe now he'll repay me some of the blunt he owes. Hunter does like to gamble but handing over when he loses can present a problem."

Bella was stunned by the disclosure. This must be why her father had warned her not to trust anyone but Carlisle. Lord Hunter owed Edward money. They gambled together. They were friends.

"But that's not the best part," Lord Edgeley continued. "Apparently he was all set to do the honourable thing and marry the daughter of the previous holder. Gal was orphaned, a nobody, but he offered for her to save her from penury."

"Not what I would expect from Hunter. Hardly the charitable type." Lord Whitlock shrugged his broad shoulders.

"He's a better man than I." Edward defended the man who had murdered Bella's father. "Hunter keeps some rather unsavoury company, but if he's willing to wed the chit it shows a depth of compassion I'd not own to. I might have assigned her a small allowance under the circumstances, but offer marriage? She must be thanking her lucky stars."

Clearly enjoying his place at the centre of attention, Lord Edgeley continued, "Well, that's the thing. The gal up and did a runner. Stole some of the family jewels, and Hunter's got all and sundry tracking her down. Not sure if he'll marry her when he finds her or have her thrown in prison."

The room spun.

 _Keep breathing_ , Bella told herself as her pounding heartbeat drowned out the rest of the conversation. Angela nudged her arm, her expression concerned, and Bella struggled to regain her composure. It was a good thing she wasn't wearing one of the new-fashioned, tightly fitted gowns, as she would have fainted for sure.

Refocusing on the gentlemen's conversation, Bella listened for more news of her father's murderer and what had become of her home, but the discussion had shifted to other topics. When they finished their breakfast, the lordships rose to leave, intent on a morning ride. As they moved towards the door, some of the other guests followed. A middle-aged gentleman who had been eyeing Bella earlier, approached where she stood.

"Aren't you the lovely morsel," he said, catching hold of her skirt.

Startled, Bella cried out in alarm.

"Trilby," Edward called the man's name. "You will join us, won't you? For the ride?"

The man let go of Bella's skirt and turned away, leaving her to stumble back against the wall.

"Masen, very good of you to offer. Just give me a moment to change. Valet won't be pleased, not at all." He chuckled and moved out the door.

When he was gone, Edward speared Bella with a look.

"Henson, I think you'd best reassign the new girl." He issued the order in the Same impassive tone he had used when talking to _Trilby_ , his eyes never leaving her face. "She's clearly not trained for her current position."

It was all Bella could do not to cry out with indignation, as she watched him stride from the room. This was her very first morning. How dare he judge her so harshly?

It was much later before the girls found time to discuss the events of the breakfast room, Jessica shooting Bella daggers at every opportunity.

"I would never go after Lord Masen." The maid did her best to mimic Bella's tone, her hands on her hips and head waggling. " _I'm_ not interested in the lordships. Oh, I could slap ye."

Jessica took a step towards her, and Bella froze, too shocked to raise her hands in self-defence. Fortunately, Angela intervened, stepping between them.

"It's not Bella's fault Lord Masen took a liking to 'er."

"Took a liking to me? He practically had me dismissed, the arrogant, insufferable prig!"

The other girls looked surprised, as was Bella. She had never used such harsh language before in her life.

"He was only trying to protect ye," Angela said.

"From what, spilling the coffee?"

"Nay, from Mr Trilby. With His Grace away, the old bugger was probably thinking he'd ignore the Duke's house rules. Lord Masen made it clear yer not to be harassed despite his own attraction to ye. He's a good man, like his father, and refuses to give in to his darker nature."

"Darker nature, my arse!" Jessica put her hands on her hips. "I get why yer not interested, but that doesn't mean the rest of us can't 'ave some fun."

"Ye think Bella would find Mr Trilby's attention 'fun'?" Angela's eyes flashed.

"Of course not. I was talkin' 'bout Lord Masen."

The two maids glared at each other while Bella looked on bewildered.

"Wot she's _tryin_ ' to say"—Jessica turned to her with a huff—"is Lord Masen wants ye, probably 'cos of the whole 'redheads bein' a better lay thing, but ye don't 'ave to worry. He won't do nothin' about it 'cos of his father's bloody rules!"

With that, Jessica flounced off leaving Angela and Bella to finish ironing the mountain of linen serviettes and tea towels they had been assigned. Bella couldn't understand why the other girl was angry with her or what she had meant about Edward wanting her because of her red hair. For what? Angela thought he found Bella attractive, but she was in the guise of a servant. Her greatest fear was he might have realised she was the girl running from Lord Hunter, although if that were the case, Bella imagined she would have been arrested by now.

What she couldn't understand was how the Duke's son could be friends with such a villain. She could only hope his father was more discerning, for if Carlisle chose to believe Lord Hunter's account of events over hers, she could kiss her future security goodbye.

~I~

 **I hope you enjoyed this little insight into how dashing but clearly entitled young lords behave when 'so-called' ladies aren't present.**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xxx Elise**


	6. Bellissima

**Yay, it's Friday night, and we had pizza for dinner! Mine was gluten free, and I have to have a creme fraiche base, as I'm allergic to tomatoes, but it was till pizza...and I didn't have to cook, so that's a win in my book. ;)**

 **I'd just like to say a special thank you to NKubie and Katmom, who helped me immensely with the original version of this story and have continued to be wonderful friends and supporters. I'm so glad I found this fandom.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 6 - Bellissima**

The next few days passed without mishap, though masquerading as a maid was even harder than Bella expected. The hours were long and the work never-ending, giving her little opportunity to deal with her losses. By the time it came for her to report to the kitchen in the afternoons, she was exhausted and terrified of failure, as she had no idea what she would do if she was forced to leave Worthington Hall. Chef Peters was sceptical of her abilities, testing her arduously in the beginning, but to Bella's relief, her skills did not abandon her. When he served the cream profiteroles she baked for afternoon tea a few days after her arrival—and not to the servants—her place seemed more secure.

Of Edward and the other gentlemen, she saw nothing, which was a good thing, she reminded herself. The less the lordships saw of her, the less likely they were to connect her with Lord Hunter's runaway bride.

Mike Newton, on the other hand, was a little too friendly. Bella did her best to discourage him, but Jessica remained furious with her, acting as if the overly familiar footman's interest was Bella's fault. Fortunately, they were all too tired by the time they reached their cold attic room at night to spend much time in conversation or argument. All any of them wanted was sleep.

A week after her arrival at Worthington, Mrs Cope asked Bella to carry a large vase of flowers from a work room and place it on a side table in one of the many hallways. The task would normally fall to a more senior maid, but they were all busy placating Lady McCarty who was on the warpath over some imagined slight or other. The woman was impossible, and Bella was just glad she didn't have to deal with her.

Unable to see past the large bouquet, she stumbled several times on the journey, the flowers falling to the side.

"Bother," she muttered after her third attempt at repairing the damage was unsuccessful.

"I think they usually put the tallest ones at the back."

Spinning around at the sound of a deep, male voice, Bella was surprised to see Edward leaning against the wall.

"My lord! You startled me."

He frowned—at her less than servile tone, she imagined—and she offered a belated curtsy.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked when the effect of his unbroken gaze reached an unbearable level.

"You can tell me your name." His gaze roamed from the top of her head to the hem of her skirt in a shockingly forward manner.

"My name?"

"I'm assuming you have one?"

"Yes, of course, I have a name."

"Well?"

One of his eyebrows rose, reminding Bella of a novel she had read by Mrs Radcliffe describing the hero as having a sardonic brow. She had always wondered what one looked like, and now she knew.

Pushing away from the wall, Edward walked over to the vase of flowers. With a few deft movements he created something quite presentable out of the jumble she had been fussing with for the better part of half an hour, and Bella huffed.

He chuckled at her reaction. "I'm sure you have many talents, though flower arranging and pouring hot beverages don't seem to be among them."

Unsure how to respond, she stared down at her wringing hands. Miss Brewer would not have approved.

"So, are you going to tell me," Edward continued. "Or am I going to have to _force_ you to give me the information?"

Looking up, Bella was surprised to see him standing mere inches away.

"My lord?"

"Your . . . name." He enunciated clearly.

Feeling her cheeks catch fire, she stammered a reply. "Bell . . . Bella, no, Belinda."

"Well, Bell . . . Bella . . . Belinda, that's a lot of names for one girl. Do you have a preference?"

She knew she should say, Belinda, a name that had just come to her, as it wasn't quite as closely related to her true name. But even after giving it as an option, she found herself saying, "Bella. I prefer Bella." After the previous two weeks, it felt like her name was all she had left of her old life.

"Un bel nome per una bellissima ragazza." Edward nodded, his expression solemn.

Bella gasped. He had said, 'A beautiful name for a very beautiful girl,' in Italian.

"You speak Italian?" he asked, his brow creasing in a frown.

"No, of course not," she lied, shaking her head. "It's just, I thought I heard my name . . . when you spoke." Her excuse was flimsy to say the least, and she held her breath.

Edward smiled. "That's because Bella means beautiful in Italian."

Bella's mouth dropped open. He thought her beautiful? Maybe Angela and Jessica were right, and Edward was attracted to her even though he believed her a servant.

"There's something I have been wanting to speak with you about. The other morning—"

"You mean the one where you had me banished from serving in the breakfast room on my very first day?" Bella interjected, forgetting her place once more.

He rubbed his jaw. "So, you were offended."

"Er, of course not, my lord." She modified her tone, not wanting to get herself banished altogether. "I could have spilled the coffee on you or one of the other guests. It was gracious of you not to have me dismissed."

"Ah, Bella, you misunderstood. I wasn't concerned about your inability to serve the coffee. The excuse to hold your hand was most welcome."

"What then?" She blurted the words then snapped her mouth shut. Holding her tongue was not a strength, and the unobtrusive nature of her new role was proving a challenge. Fortunately, Edward did not appear concerned.

"Are you aware of my father's unusual standards concerning the treatment of his staff?" he asked, running his fingers over the satiny smooth finish of the side table. She nodded, though it was difficult to think clearly with him standing so close.

"His Grace wasn't always so honourable. When I was growing up, I distinctly recall him enjoying the odd dalliance with willing maids, and he did little to hide the existence of his mistresses."

Bella frowned. Dalliance was not a word she was familiar with, and as far as she knew, a man's wife was the mistress of his household, a role that need not be hidden and did not come in multiples.

Edward's gaze rose to her face. "Don't worry. You are quite safe here at Worthington Hall. My father had a rather dramatic change of heart a while back, a conversion of sorts. He now devotes a substantial portion of his time and wealth to the betterment and protection of the working classes, despite the cost to his reputation."

Bella had heard as much from her father who had shared the Duke's opinion.

"Do you follow a similar creed?"

"Mostly." Edward shrugged and took a step closer. "I'm happy to honour my father's wishes, especially in his own home. Although the effort does sometimes come at personal cost."

Reaching towards her, he ran his forefinger slowly down her cheek. "You have amazing skin. Soft as silk."

Staring unblinking into his handsome face, she swayed towards him.

"There you are, Masen. I have been looking for you everywhere."

A cultured female voice scolded from further down the hallway, startling Bella back to her senses.

Lady McCarty.

One of the first things Bella had learned from the staff at Worthington was to get her head down and her hands busy whenever Rosalie was around. After bobbing a curtsy, she turned to fiddle with the flower arrangement Edward had rescued.

"Good morning, Lady McCarty." He bowed and then placed his body between Bella's and his cousin's wife. "Is there a problem?"

There was always a problem with Rosalie, and she immediately launched into a long list of complaints about disrespectful staff, unskilled servants, and general incompetence. Edward murmured reassurances at appropriate intervals and began to steer her further down the hall. Bella was almost in the clear when his cousin-in-law turned and looked over her shoulder at the vase of flowers.

"This is exactly the sort of thing I'm talking about. This arrangement is atrocious. Honestly, Mrs Cope will hire any riff-raff. What's your name, girl, and who gave you permission to make a travesty of His Grace's flowers?"

Bella bristled at her tone, but when she opened her mouth to reply Edward interjected.

"You will have to blame me for this particular travesty. Bella had done an admirable job when I decided to try my hand. Made a right mess of it, I'm afraid."

Rosalie's look of surprise transformed to one of suspicion, as her gaze alternated between Edward and Bella.

"I see what's going on. Uncle Carlisle is away, and the golden son will play. _Bella,_ how interesting."

Edward straightened abruptly. "You'll leave her out of this. Is that understood?"

Rosalie sniffed. "I have often wondered about your type, but really, Masen, where's your taste? The girl has the most garish hair, though I have heard that's quite appealing in a tart."

"That's enough."

Bella flinched at Edward's tone, but Rosalie seemed unperturbed. She eyed him archly before turning and walking away, her full skirts swaying in her wake.

Sighing, Edward turned to face Bella. "I'd like to assure you nothing will come of Lady McCarty recognising my interest in you, but I would be lying," he said. "The best I can do is to keep my distance and hope she forgets the incident, though do let me know if she gives you too much trouble."

His tone was apologetic, but it was his admission of interest that caught Bella's attention. It made her want to smile and remain standing with him in the hallway beside the now crazily leaning flower arrangement indefinitely. But then she realised she _was_ smiling . . . widely.

Edward was not.

Embarrassed, she curtsied before turning to flee.

~I~

Bella couldn't wait for the working day to be over and the girls to finish preparing for bed. As soon as they were all huddled beneath their blankets, she asked the question that had been bothering her all afternoon.

"Do either of you know why Lady McCarty would be jealous of Lord Masen for liking another lady . . . I mean woman?"

Jessica sat up and stared at her.

"Care to explain wot ye're on about?"

Bella hesitated before telling the girls the whole story, leaving out the part where Edward called her beautiful, stroked her face, and said he was 'interested' in her, of course.

"Bella, ye must be careful around the lords. It doesn't take much to encourage 'em." Angela warned.

"Oh, bosh," Jessica muttered. "Although, I'd be careful for another reason if I were ye. Lady McCarty's not one ye want to cross."

"But Lady McCarty is married. Why should she care who Lord Masen speaks to?"

" 'Cos 'e's the one she really wanted," Jessica said. "She 'ad her sights set on being the next Marchioness of Masen and duchess in waiting, not that the King was likely to approve, as her father's only a viscount. Either way, Lord Masen wasn't interested, so she 'ad to settle for Lord McCarty. I think he thought he was getting' a bargain wiv her bein' so beautiful and all, but 'e didn't take into account the icy water she's got runnin' in her veins. I don't think he's particularly enjoyin' his conjugal rights, wot wiv gettin' his man parts frozen in the process."

After taking a moment to decipher Jessica's explanation, Bella nodded. It sounded as if Lady McCarty was punishing her husband in some way for not being her first choice, though how his parts could be frozen, she wasn't sure.

Bella briefly wondered what sort of lady Edward would choose, or have chosen for him, but shied away from the painful thought. It was then she realised she was in danger of becoming enamoured with the son of a duke and her prospective protector. Despite the exhilaration that accompanied her burgeoning feelings, it was the height of foolishness to think they could lead to anything but misery.

"All I'm saying is ye should watch out for Lady McCarty _and_ Lord Masen," Angela said. "He might be lovely to look at, but that doesn't mean he won't chew ye up and spit ye out when he's done with ye."

Bella considered arguing Edward would never do anything to harm a lady, or a serving girl for that matter, but she kept her mouth shut. Forkton was an isolated village, after all, and her experience with members of the nobility extremely limited.

Staring into the darkness after her companions fell asleep, Bella missed her father more than ever. She had never spoken to him about liking a boy, well, a man, in truth—Edward must be as old as twenty-three or even twenty-four—as the situation had never arisen. But she was sure his counsel would have been wise. With her feelings wavering between sadness at the memory of her distant home and excitement over her brief encounter with Edward, sleep was a long time coming.

 **~I~**

 **Thank you for reading and for your lovely reviews. Your enthusiasm for this story is incredibly touching and so appreciated.**

 **xx Elise**


	7. The Hunt

**I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 7 - The Hunt**

The next day, Bella was assigned to work with Chef Peters for the morning as well as afternoon. A mountain of pastries was needed for the hunt being held the following day, not to mention cakes for afternoon tea and an array of desserts for dinner. Even without the Duke's presence, the hunt was still a noteworthy event, one not to be missed. Guests began arriving early in the afternoon, swelling the number of society members in residence to over sixty. Few of the neighbours lived within easy riding distance, so most chose to enjoy Worthington Hall's considerable hospitality and came prepared to stay for several days. Edward's presence ensured every family within fifty miles with a remotely marriageable daughter made the effort to attend.

Bella spent the day on tenterhooks, worried Rosalie would seek to cause her harm, but to her relief nothing untoward occurred. She felt rather proud of herself at the end of the long day when she tallied how much she'd contributed towards the feast prepared for that night and the morrow.

The next morning saw the staff up even earlier than usual as there was much to accomplish before the hunt began at nine. Bella wasn't the only servant to speculate Edward had chosen the early start to encourage the more frivolous female guests to remain abed. He was only partly successful, though there were some fractious tempers to be observed amongst the young ladies all vying for his attention—or so Bella heard from the unfortunate servants assigned to attend them.

She didn't expect to escape the kitchen so was pleased to be asked to deliver a tray of fruit pastries to the courtyard where the riders were indulging in a light repast and shots of brandied tea before the hunt.

"The footmen are all busy," Mrs Cope explained. "Just make sure to stay out of the way of the horses, and you will be fine."

Bella wasn't afraid of horses, having ridden since she was young and to hounds many times, but she merely bobbed a curtsey in response. Dusting off her hands, she removed her flour-stained apron and took the tray the housekeeper proffered before heading outside. The day was fine but very cool at this hour, and she shivered after exiting the warm kitchens.

Momentarily taken aback by the sight before her, Bella stared at the milling crowd of highly strung hunters and their impeccably dressed riders. Liveried footmen bearing trays of refreshments scurried to meet the imperiously issued demands of the lords, ladies, and sundry society members in attendance, while grooms hovered at the ready. Locating the tables set up for food and beverages on the far side of the vast courtyard, she headed in their direction, hugging the wall to keep out of the way. Halfway to her destination, she heard her name called in a chillingly familiar tone.

"You girl. Bring that tray over here."

Looking up, Bella sighted Rosalie mounted on a large chestnut in the midst of a group of riders beckoning her near. Hesitating, she glanced over to Mr Henson who'd taken note of her cautious approach, but he was occupied.

It was one thing to be mounted on her own horse amidst a crowd of restless steeds, another to be on foot bearing a heavily laden tray and without a groom for escort or ready assistance.

"Stop your dawdling," Rosalie ordered, leaving Bella no choice but to obey.

Swallowing hard, she took a hesitant step in the imperious lady's direction, then another. Surrounded by huge beasts, her heart pounded in her chest. A movement to her side caught her attention, and she glanced up, startled to see Edward moving quickly through the crowd towards her.

Relieved, she waited for him to reach her side, but then Rosalie called again. Her tone brooked no argument, and Bella reluctantly continued towards her. Having almost reached her destination, she began to breathe a little easier. But then one of the horses nipped at his neighbour, and the startled animal reared up on his hind legs. Swinging around, the beast's hindquarters knocked the tray from her hands, sending pastries flying and the heavy silver tray clattering to the ground.

Bella's heart caught in her throat as she was jostled by the panicked horses, their riders struggling to maintain control. Despite trying to keep her footing, a blow sent her crashing to the ground, her head hitting the cobblestones with an awful crack. Stunned by the blow, everything went black.

When her eyes fluttered open, large, metal-shod hooves were striking the pavement inches from where Bella lay. Whimpering in terror, she covered her head with her arms and rolled into a ball, the horse's hooves missing her body by mere inches and the vagaries of chance. Just when she thought her luck was all used up, and she would surely be trampled, strong hands grabbed her around the waist and dragged her out of the way.

"It's all right. You are safe now. Open your eyes, Bella, please."

At the sound of Edward's velvet voice, she obeyed.

"You," she whispered, echoing his words from the breakfast room.

"Thank God I reached you in time," he said, holding her close.

Despite the terrible fright she had received, Bella felt safe with the warmth of his large body wrapped protectively around her. Then a stab of pain caught her attention. Wincing, she lifted her hand to the side of her head to find it wet . . . sticky. Puzzled, she brought her fingers before her eyes and saw they were covered with blood. Her vision blurred, and Edward gave her shoulders a gentle shake.

"Bella! Bella look at me."

"I'm bleeding," she informed him somewhat petulantly.

"You've got a cut on your head, but I don't think it's too bad." He ran his hands up and down her arms to stop her shivering. "Let's get you inside."

Lifting her once more, he tucked her head beneath his chin.

"Masen, what do you think you are doing?" Rosalie's strident tone cut through the noise of the milling crowd. "Leave her to one of the servants. You will get blood on your jacket."

Bella cringed away from her harsh words and barely controlled mount, hiding her face against Edward's shoulder.

"Rosalie, if you have any idea what's best for you, you will shut your mouth this instant."

Rosalie's gasp could be heard over the murmurs of those ladies, gentlemen, and servants close enough to hear Edward's harsh rebuke.

"How dare you speak to me in such a manner?" she said.

"How dare _you_ put an innocent servant in harm's way out of spite!"

Bella flinched at Edward's shout but couldn't resist a glance to see Rosalie's ashen expression.

"I don't know what you mean," she said, looking around her. "The girl's a servant. I merely asked to be _served_ some pastries."

"Could you not see she was carrying a heavy tray? You should have waited for a footman, not put a young maid in danger."

Lord McCarty approached, manoeuvring his horse through the crowd. "Good God, man, you're bleeding. What happened?"

"Why don't you ask your wife?"

Lord McCarty looked worriedly to where Rosalie sat upon her horse, conspicuously isolated from the crowd.

"We'll talk later," Edward said, modifying his tone. "I need you to lead the hunt. I shall catch up with you when I can."

His cousin nodded, and Edward turned and strode towards the house with Bella in his arms. After laying her on a long couch in one of the ornate sitting rooms, he let out a groan and gripped his leg. It was then she saw his breeches were torn all down his right thigh, blood trickling from a nasty-looking graze.

"I'm so sorry." She attempted to sit up but was forced back against the cushioned couch by her throbbing head and the suddenly spinning room.

"It's nothing." He knelt beside her despite his injury. "I have had far worse riding to hunt. It's you I'm worried about, but I have to go, I'm afraid," he added with obvious reluctance.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Bella raised a hand to where he gently cupped her cheek. He gripped her fingers briefly, then stood and turned to face the waiting staff.

"Henson, fetch Mrs Cope to care for Bella and Dr Gerandy if she deems it necessary. I had best go change if I'm to catch up with the hunt."

"As you wish." Mr Henson nodded before adding, "Are you sure you shouldn't wait to see Dr Gerandy yourself, my lord, and have him look at your leg?"

Edward shook his head. "Jenkins can wrap it. Better to keep moving than let it seize." Pausing at the door, he looked back to where Bella lay.

"Make sure she is well cared for. I shall check in later today."

"Very well, my lord."

Edward left the room, and the butler turned to her with a sigh. "You've had an eventful morning, young lass. Let's get you to the servants' quarters before you get any more blood on his Grace's nice brocade."

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of fussing and gentle scolding, though all agreed it was easier said than done to ignore a direct order from the likes of Lady McCarty, even when the order was blatantly inappropriate.

Fortunately, the cut on her head was not deep, but the bump that accompanied it gave Bella a sizable headache. Once she was cleaned up and bandaged by the competent Mrs Harrison, one of the cooks who had a knack with herbal tonics, Mrs Cope insisted Bella rest on a narrow cot in a room that led off the kitchen.

"Where I can keep an eye on you," she explained.

Bella slept fitfully the rest of the day, happy to keep a cool cloth over her eyes and even willingly sipping the bitter-tasting brew Mrs Harrison prepared to ease her aching head. To her frustration, she slept through Edward's visit when he came to check on her after the hunt. When she finally awoke, Angela was sitting in a chair beside her.

"Lord Masen's orders, as he didn't want you left alone," she explained, her tone awed. "I 'eard he just about stripped the 'ide off Lady McCarty for 'er folly. Then he told Lord McCarty if he didn't pull his wife into line, he'd do it for 'im!"

"Truly?" Bella sat up, relieved when the room remained stationary.

"Aye, 'onest to goodness." Angela nodded and rubbed Bella's cold hands between her much warmer ones. "I just 'ope it means Lady McCarty will leave ye alone now. I can't imagine she'll be wanting another tongue-lashing, especially not in front of some of the most important toffs in the country."

"No, I can't imagine she will," Bella murmured. While relieved beyond measure Edward had come to her assistance, she was apprehensive on several levels. She was supposed to be keeping hidden, not drawing attention to herself or doing anything that might alert Lord Hunter to her whereabouts. As for Rosalie, while Bella hoped Angela's assessment was correct, even her limited experience warned her a woman scorned—and embarrassed—was not one to take lightly.

As per Edward's very specific instructions, Mrs Cope made sure Bella was well taken care of while she recovered from her injury. But nothing could protect her from the pointed looks and murmured comments of the rest of the staff. Edward coming to her aid in such a dramatic manner was considered quite remarkable, even by the servants of Worthington Hall. They had become accustomed to being treated with a greater degree of respect than was typical for those of their station, courtesy of the Duke's enlightened attitude. But his son had gone about Bella's rescue with no concern for his personal safety, engendering scrutiny. While a polite inquiry regarding her health would not have been unexpected, his checking on her in person was far from the normal response of a lord to a servant being injured.

"I'm not surprised Lord Masen went so far out of 'is way on yer behalf," Angela said a few days after the hunt.

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because he's taken a right fancy to ye. I told ye he liked ye that day at breakfast."

"And it's a bloody good thing, too," Jessica grumbled. "Otherwise ye'd 'ave been trampled underneath all those 'orses, and Mrs Cope would be lookin' for a new maid."

Bella was beginning to believe the girl would never forgive her for attracting the attention of both her chosen beau and a lord on whom she'd set her sights. Although what Jessica hoped to achieve by gaining Edward's interest was beyond her.

It was a good thing he had cared enough to rescue her, or her plan to avenge her father's murder and reenter society would have been short-lived. Bella wished she could tell him her story. He seemed a true gentleman in all regards, but she dared not take the risk. Lord Hunter had most likely had himself named her legal guardian. In the unlikely event Edward believed Bella's version of events over that of a peer, he would nevertheless be honour bound to hand her over to the authorities. Lord Hunter's threats had not been empty, Bella's word worth almost nothing against those of a baron, no matter how despicable.

A shiver ran through her at the thought of being placed in the evil man's—she refused to name him a gentleman—less than tender care. Bella's only hope was to remain hidden until the Duke returned, his elevated station and authority the one thing standing between her and an unwelcome marriage to the man who had killed her father . . . or worse.

 **~I~**

 **Hmmm...he might be a tad predatory, but it appears Edward is as protective of Bella as ever. And a good thing, too!**

 **xx Elise**


	8. The Library

**Happy Sunday! I hope you've all had or are having a lovely day. My DH and I took our niece and nephew fishing, and it was every bit as boring as I feared. We lasted an hour, before we decided to pack it in and go to the movies. Silly me picked A Quiet Place, which was amazing but also the scariest film I have seen in _years._ My dreams will be interesting tonight!**

 **Someone asked in a review about the prejudice against red hair, so I had a look for the research articles that inspired that part of this 'reworked' story line. Frustratingly, I couldn't find the specific article I'd used for inspiration that spoke of red hair only being fitting for 'actresses and prostitutes', though there were plenty of articles that mentioned redheads being vilified throughout history. Queen Elizabeth the First's reign saw red hair gain popularity in the 1500s. It became very unpopular during the mid 1800s, the time of the Irish Potato Famine, when England experienced increased migration from Ireland, a population with a much higher than average percentage of redheads (sigh...it seems prejudice against impoverished migrants has always been a thing), but then it gained popularity again at the turn of the 18th century - so, it's had it's ups and downs. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 8 - The Library**

"Miss Brown, you are to clean the library this morning."

Bella's breath hitched at the housekeepers' directive.

A library.

Books.

It had only been a few weeks since she'd left her home, but oh, how Bella missed her books. Attempting to picture the library at Worthington, she refused to allow her thoughts to take her back to the cosy sitting room at Swan Manor. Her grief, when it surfaced, was overwhelming, and she didn't want it to spoil this unexpected opportunity.

"Mike can show you the way," the housekeeper added, putting a dampener on Bella's enthusiasm.

The footman had been hovering, as usual, and took the bucket of cleaning products from her hands. She went to protest, but Mrs Cope gestured for them to move on.

"So, where's your lovely smile?" Mike asked once they were alone in one of the vast corridors.

Bella ducked her head down, loath to encourage him.

"Not in the mood for talking?" He nudged her on the shoulder, taking her stumble as an excuse to put an arm around her shoulder and pull her close to his side.

"Don't do that." She pushed him away.

"Just trying to 'elp." He feigned surprise at her reaction.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking unaided," Bella said crossly before tempering her tone, wary of making another enemy. "But thank you for assisting me."

"Yer very welcome."

"How much further to the library?" She hunched her shoulders, disliking the way he kept staring at her chest.

"Why? Eager to get me alone so ye can 'ave yer wicked way with me?" He waggled his eyebrows in an odd manner.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, come on! A gorgeous creature like ye out in the world on yer own? Don't tell me yer innocent. Most serving lasses 'ave been tumbled and rolled umpteen times by the time they're yer age."

Mike's words reminded Bella of the lewd comments she had heard on the journey from Forkton. She should have insisted Leah enlighten her as to their full meaning or asked Jessica to explain when Angela wasn't around to be distressed by the topic. All she knew was a lady's reputation could be irreversibly damaged if she were to engage in lascivious behaviour, but what exactly that entailed was still a mystery.

Well, maybe not a complete mystery.

Her cheeks warmed as she recalled the way she had felt when Edward stood close to her in the hallway, as if butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach. And even though it had come at the cost of a sizeable headache, she would not have foregone the chance to be held in his arms.

"Here we are, Miss Bella." Mike made a sweeping bow, gesturing for her to precede him through the door into the library.

Keeping her distance, Bella walked inside before stumbling to a halt. Leather-bound books housed in dark mahogany shelving stretched along the walls of the vast room, three stories high, with sliding ladders to access the upper shelves. Comfortable chairs were grouped around the room, offering enough seating for at least twenty people. Velvet curtains and rich, patterned carpeting created a surprisingly cosy feel to a room of palatial proportions.

"Heavens above," she whispered.

"It's something, ain't it?" Mike scanned the room before closing the door behind them. "Not that I'm overly interested in books meself. I don't 'ave much time for readin' and the like. More a man of action, that's me."

His words barely registered, unable to compete with Bella's absorption in the wonders around her. That changed when he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her back against the nearest row of shelving.

"Mike, no!"

"Ah, come on. A luscious redhead like yerself? Ye know ye want it."

Gripping her chin, he attempted to force a kiss, while one of his thighs pushed between her legs. Her strength no match for the footman, she struggled to free herself, panic rising in her chest.

"No!" she cried again, feeling utterly helpless, but then the advice Jacob had given her before she had departed Worthy surfaced in her mind.

"I'm sure ye'll be perfectly safe working in the Duke's home," he had said. "But if ye should be subjected to an unwelcome advance, there are actions ye can take to, er . . . discourage a man."

Bella had thought the possibility unlikely but had stored his odd instructions away nonetheless. Letting herself go limp, she sagged against Mike's body. When he stepped back to see if she'd fainted, she brought her knee up between his legs as hard as she could, following with an elbow to his stomach.

The elbow was probably unnecessary.

The impertinent footman collapsed in a heap, cupping his private area with his hands and howling like a hound that had captured the scent of a fox. To Bella's acute embarrassment, Jacob had assured her this was an extremely vulnerable location on a man, but she hadn't expected Mike to respond quite so dramatically to her blow. When a couple of minutes passed, and he continued to writhe and moan, she began to worry she had done him irreparable harm. Seeking help, she raced from the room and straight into the arms of Mr Henson.

"Who's making that dreadful ruckus?" The butler caught Bella by the elbow and directed her back into the library.

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" Letting her go, he reached down to haul Mike up by the collar of his shirt. "That'll teach ye to leave the lasses alone. Ye'll be lucky to avoid a horse-whipping when His Grace hears about this. Ye know his views about harassing unwilling girls."

Mike groaned a garbled protest as he stumbled from the room, a shove in the middle of his back from the butler sending him on his way.

"Are you all right, lass?" Mr Henson asked, turning to face her.

"Yes, sir. I don't know why he thought he could . . ." Bella gripped her hands together to stop them from shaking.

"Don't fret. I was a bit worried you'd be trouble, but you've done naught to provoke the men. You can't help your looks or the delusions that fill a feckless young man's head. Mind you, seems like you can handle yourself well enough." He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. "Do you need some time to collect yourself, or will you be right to continue?"

"I shall be fine, thank you, sir."

"Very well then, but do let me know if any of the others give you trouble. We pride ourselves at Worthington Hall on providing a safe environment for the staff. His Grace wouldn't have it any other way."

With a final nod, Mr Henson left the library, leaving Bella to collect the discarded cleaning utensils with hands that shook.

Her work was almost finished when she heard a noise.

"Mike, is that you?"

The footman had seemed cowed after she had struck him with her knee, but she doubted she would get the opportunity to best him the Same way twice.

"If that's you, Mike, you'd better stay away from me, or I shall give you some more punishment." The tremor in her voice undermined her forceful tone, so she raised her voice. "I mean it! I don't want you touching me or kissing me. Just leave me alone."

Catching a movement to her right, Bella turned to see Edward stepping forward from a shadowed doorway.

"Oh, it's you." He didn't return her smile, and lowering her head, she quickly dropped a curtsy.

"I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to disturb you." Peering up through her lashes she saw him stalking towards her. Her stomach lurched, as she wondered if he had discovered her link with his friend, Lord Hunter. As he came closer, she saw he was limping slightly, the more likely cause of his annoyance. He must regret putting himself at risk over a mere servant.

Twice in the same morning, Bella found herself crowded against the wall. When Edward reached a hand towards her, she flinched.

He froze, a crease appearing between his brows. "You think I would strike you?"

"No." She shook her head, looking up at him warily. "It's just you're so angry with me."

"Why would I be angry with you?"

"Because of your leg. If you hadn't come to my rescue you'd not have been injured."

"I told you it was nothing, the injury well worth the price of your safety."

Bella forced herself to keep still as he reached for a strand of hair that had come loose during her tussle with Mike. After tucking it back into the bun at her nape, he trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, her skin tingling at his touch.

"The 'Mike' you were threatening, is he the footman who's been shadowing you?"

She nodded.

"It's not hard to guess his transgression, but I'm curious. How exactly did you _p_ _unish_ him?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Bella?" he prompted, and she started out of her reverie. He really was quite wonderful to look at.

"Um, well, you see, I remembered something a friend of mine told me about protecting myself from an unwanted advance, and I raised my knee up and hit him in . . ." Unable to put the events into words, she demonstrated, coming close to striking Edward the way she had Mike. Wincing, he stepped back, and Bella covered her face with her hands.

"So, you do have hidden talents. I shall have to keep that in mind."

Peeking at him from between her fingers, she was relieved to see the humour in his expression. "I'm so sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to . . ."

"No need for apology." He took hold of her hands, rubbing his thumbs softly over her knuckles. "I'm glad you were able to defend yourself, though it should not have been necessary." His tone hardened. "You won't have to worry about the footman bothering you again. He'll be gone by nightfall."

Already in poor form with Jessica, Bella was concerned Edward taking such an action would be to her detriment.

"Please, don't dismiss Mike on my account," she asked. "It was just a misunderstanding, as he thought I was someone I'm not. I mean, I am a serving girl, of course, but not like the ones he's used to. I'm unaccustomed to the way things are done, as I have only recently come into service."

Edward's grip on her hands tightened. "You are defending him? Why? Did you invite his attentions and then change your mind?"

"No! I didn't want him to touch me, but he wouldn't listen."

Tears flooded Bella's eyes, and Edward's expression softened.

"It's all right, I believe you," he said, leading her to a nearby grouping of chairs. "Come, sit, and tell me why you are new to service. Where is your family?"

"My father managed the inn where I worked, but when he died, I was forced to leave," she said, before adding the details she had thought of that would hopefully improve the plausibility of her tale. "During the war, he served under your father, and spoke very highly of His Grace. He said if anything happened, I should come to Worthington Hall and seek employment."

Edward studied her intently, one elegantly-clad leg crossed over the other.

"Did your father say why you should make the journey from . . . where exactly did you say?"

Bella struggled to recall if she had given Mrs Cope a specific location. She dared not say she was from Forkton or any of the surrounding locales, so she picked the town she had stayed in with her father when they went on a trip to the seaside the summer after her mother died.

"Mayverton. I came from Mayverton _._ "

"That's quite a journey. You undertook it alone?"

"Some friends accompanied me on their way to visit relatives further north."

Edward nodded thoughtfully. "There's no way you would have made it this far otherwise."

"No, indeed," she muttered.

"I'm curious about your accent," he continued, his expression reminding Bella of her tabby cat when he was stalking a mouse. "It doesn't fit the locale you mentioned or any other that I know of."

"My mother was French," she said then winced, unsure if Lord Hunter would know that about her. "She was from a good family and insisted I receive an education."

"Your mother." Edward remained silent for a moment. "She wouldn't have fled Paris around the time of the _Terror_ by any chance?"

The room spun, and Bella clutched the arms of her chair, fearing he knew she was the young woman Lord Hunter was searching for and was merely toying with her.

"It's all right. You have nothing to fear." Edward knelt beside her chair and steadied her with a hand to her shoulder. Studying her intently, he traced the line of her jaw before trailing his fingers down the length of her arm. "Although it certainly explains a few things. Your delicate bone structure and soft, flawless skin for one."

He stroked the back of her hand, and Bella shivered.

"Did your mother tell you much of her heritage?"

"She didn't like to speak of it," she said truthfully. The _Terror_ had come when her mother was barely in her teens. She had lost her parents and most of her relatives to the guillotine and been forced to flee with only a few faithful family retainers to protect her.

"Understandable." Edward's expression sobered. "And your father, the solider? Good English working-class stock, I suppose. He must have been an exceptional man to capture her attention."

Bella nodded, relieved. While Edward had come close to the truth, he had fortunately interpreted the information she'd given him through the filter of the role she was playing.

"And so here we have the lovely Bella. A sweet little commoner with the grace and beauty of a budding debutante. What an enticing contradiction you present."

After drawing in a ragged breath, she licked her suddenly dry lips. With his gaze focused on her mouth, he leaned in so close they were almost touching. _Almost kissing_.

"Bloody hell."

Pushing himself to his feet, Edward strode a few paces before halting.

"I don't know if you have any idea how much I want you." He huffed a feeble laugh before turning to face her. "But my giving in to temptation would rather defeat the purpose of you having travelled all this way to find safety. Keeping my distance is the only option."

Bella rose slowly from the chair.

"Would you like me to leave? I have not yet finished cleaning the library, but I can come back later."

"No, I shall leave, but I don't want you working alone in future, is that clear?"

Her mouth fell open.

"That's hardly necessary, my lord. I am quite capable of staying away from you and have no need of supervision."

Edward took a step towards her. "You will not work alone for your own protection. _I_ will stay away from _you_."

With that he turned and stalked from the library, leaving Bella staring after him, thoroughly confused.

 **~I~**

 **Good old Edward. It doesn't seem to matter what the era, he ends up saying he'll stay away for Bella's protection . . . and then failing spectacularly!**

 **Thank you so much to those of you taking the time to review. And thank you so much for those of you who have bought this story on Amazon as well as reading it here. If any of you feel inclined to leave a review there also, I'd be very grateful. :)**

 **xx Elise**


	9. The Pastry Chef

**A slightly longer chapter and one I quite enjoy! I hope you enjoy it, too.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 9 - The Pastry Chef**

"Your chocolate pastries have been a great success." Chef Peters approached where Bella was sitting icing a batch of petit fours a few days later. As a result of her encounter with Edward, she had been assigned to work permanently in the kitchen, a place where she would be _safe_. Heartily sick of cleaning, she was not displeased by the outcome.

After Edward had left her in the library, Bella had set aside her anger and gone in search of the French language section. Refusing to be distracted at discovering so many of her favourite authors amongst the wonderful collection, she had located a journal of French recipes. Without paper or writing utensils, she had been limited to memorising ingredients for just a couple of dishes. She was pleased the chocolate pastries had generated a positive response.

"I'm glad they've been appreciated." Bella smiled shyly. Not having to hide the fact she enjoyed creating culinary delights was one of the very few benefits she had discovered to masquerading as a servant.

"They've been more than appreciated. The marquis himself has asked to meet the new pastry chef and pay his compliments in person," the chef added, and her smile faded.

"I think it might be best if you went in my place."

"I'm not about to take credit for your work." Chef Peters frowned. "And I don't fancy sending word to the marquis that you refused his invitation. I don't expect he would be at all pleased."

Bella removed her apron with a sigh. She didn't expect he would be pleased either way. With no other choice, she set off for Edward's study, a tray of recently baked pastries in her hand. He was seated at his desk, his head bent over a pile of papers and his quill moving rapidly.

"I shall be with you in just a moment," he said after a footman announced her arrival, and Bella took the opportunity to admire the view. She particularly liked the way his hair curled behind his ears and the contrast between his snowy white cravat and the warm tone of his skin.

When he looked up, his eyebrows rose. "What are you doing here?"

"You asked to see me, my lord." She raised the tray holding the plate of pastries.

"I asked to see the new _pastry chef_. Would you care to explain why you are here in his stead?"

"Because I am the new pastry chef, my lord. Well, I'm not a real chef, but I baked the chocolate pastries you liked."

He stared at her for a moment before dismissing the footman who shut the door with a decisive click. Bella jumped, rattling the tray.

"You may as well join me." Edward gestured to where a silver tea service sat on a low table. After walking stiffly across the room, Bella placed the pastries beside the tea service, _without_ rattling the tray this time. When she looked up, he had angled his chair away from the desk and stretched his legs out before him, the fingers of one hand drumming on the crowded desktop.

"I have been trying very hard to do the right thing, but it would seem fate is conspiring against me," he said cryptically.

He stood and then came to stand on the other side of the low table, eyeing the pastries with a bemused expression.

" _You_ baked these?"

Bella nodded.

"And the profiteroles? The _crème brûlée_?"

"Yes, my lord," she said at his mention of the other dishes she had baked and been credited with, not by name, of course.

"Mmm." Edward took a seat on a long, leather couch. "Your _French_ mother brought her _French_ chef with her when she came to England to marry your commoner father. While a lady would never consider participating in such a plebeian activity, a girl of your station was not so hindered and took the opportunity to learn an admirable trade."

"Precisely, my lord." Bella stiffened at the backhanded compliment.

"You are a constant source of surprise," he said, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

Unsure if the words were meant as compliment or rebuke, she failed in her attempts not to fidget.

"What am I going to do with you?" He looked up at her through his long lashes. "Succumbing to temptation is beginning to feel inevitable. One can only resist for so long."

When he gestured for her to take a seat, she frowned. It wasn't done in a household of this standing for servants to socialise with their masters. Even minor households held staunchly to segregation based on class and station, though her father had allowed the lines to blur.

"Come, Bella, sit. It would appear at least some rules will be broken. Best we begin with the innocuous ones, don't you think?"

Obeying, she perched on the edge of the seat, her hands placed demurely in her lap.

"Would you like me to pour your tea, my lord?" she asked when he had stared at her for so long the urge to resume fidgeting was overwhelming.

The corner of his mouth curved into a smirk. "Can you manage without scalding yourself?"

Bella blushed. She had been practising but wasn't about to admit it, merely nodding her assent.

"I have a great many questions where you are concerned," he continued. "Maybe receiving some answers will assuage my interest."

Her blush deepened at his words.

"But I doubt it," he muttered beneath his breath.

"What would you like to know, my lord?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically breathy. Edward's interest was both perplexing and exhilarating.

"What would I like to know?" he asked in a musing tone. Sitting back, he appeared to ponder for a moment before continuing, "Do you have other talents besides baking and bringing impertinent young footmen to their knees? What is your favourite colour and flower? You mentioned receiving an education. Do you have a favourite author? Tell me everything."

A nervous laugh escaped Bella's lips. Admitting she was an accomplished horsewoman didn't seem wise, as she doubted many maids received the opportunity to learn to ride, certainly not side-saddle, the acceptable mode for ladies of the _ton_.

"I like to sketch," she offered cautiously.

"Your creativity extends beyond the culinary arts. Do you also paint? Oils? Watercolours?"

Bella had more experience with watercolours than oils but was fairly certain neither options would have been accessible to a girl working in an inn. "Just pencil, charcoal, and, er . . . occasionally ink?"

Ignoring the uncertainty in her tone, he nodded. "And what do you like to sketch? Still life, landscapes?"

"Portraits, mostly. People and animals. It's called life drawing," she said and then snapped her mouth shut, worried her knowledge of the subject was too unlikely for a maid.

"I would very much like to see some of your work, if I may?" he asked, seeming unperturbed by her disclosures.

Bella shrugged and then tensed before shrugging again. Young ladies were not supposed to shrug. Miss Brewer would have been appalled by her lack of decorum, well . . . that and the fact she was conversing alone with a gentleman in a room with a closed door. Relatively speaking, shrugging was a minor impropriety.

"I wasn't able to bring many possessions with me when I left home," she said. "I haven't done any drawings since arriving at Worthington Hall, as I have no access to paper or pens."

 _And absolutely no time or energy to indulge in a hobby with the hours I work,_ she thought, but kept that piece of information to herself.

Edward stood and strode to a cupboard against the wall. Rummaging in the drawers, he returned with a pile of paper and an assortment of pencils, charcoals, pens, inks, and the like.

"There, that should get you started." He placed the material on the table, pushing it towards Bella who stared at it, nonplussed.

"Thank you, but I couldn't possibly accept such a gift, my lord. I don't have the time or anywhere to store and use them."

"What about during the evenings in your room or on your days off?"

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at his limited knowledge regarding the living arrangements and working conditions of the staff that served him.

"I share a very small attic room with two other girls, and I am generally too tired to do anything but sleep when I reach it quite late at night, my lord. I get half a day off a week, but so far all I have managed during my free time is to take care of personal chores and catch up on some rest."

Edward frowned. "How inconvenient."

Wanting to lighten the mood, as drawing attention to her lack of endurance as a servant didn't seem wise, Bella answered his earlier questions, listing the items off on her fingers. "So, my 'talents,' if you can describe them thus, are baking, drawing, and defending one's person under limited circumstances. To which I can now add pouring hot tea. I prefer bright colours, and as to my favourite blossoms, I like roses, chrysanthemums, poppies, daffodils. Flowers in general, I suppose." Pleased by his smile, she returned it shyly. "When it comes to authors, the list of my favourites is long and eclectic."

"What about siblings, family? Have you no one with your parents gone?"

Her smile faded.

"My mother and father were both only children, so I have no aunts or uncles. Mama died giving birth to my baby brother when I was just a girl. He only lived a few days."

Tears stung briefly at her eyes, and she blinked them away. Things would have been very different if her brother had lived. Deprived of the potential to gain an early inheritance, Lord Hunter would have had no reason to force his unwelcome presence into their lives.

"Come." Edward stood, and extended his free hand. It took Bella a moment to comprehend he wanted her to take it, and she did so hesitantly. When he walked to a door on the far side of the room to the hallway, she glanced over her shoulder.

"Don't worry. I shall make sure you don't get into trouble." He led her past a large sitting room and a masculine-looking bedroom, adding at her curious look, "These are my quarters when I stay at Worthington Hall."

"Oh." Bella didn't know what else to say. Walking hand-in-hand with a gentleman was not allowed, let alone entering his private quarters. Fearing these actions must surely constitute lascivious behaviour, she was about to question his intentions when they emerged in the hallway that led to the library.

"There's a sitting room over there where you can set up a studio for drawing and painting, if you would like to try it." Edward pointed to a door almost hidden in a corner of the vast room. "It is rarely used, and I shall make sure you have everything you need."

"A studio?" She frowned. So much for avoiding undue attention. "But, my lord . . ."

Ignoring her interruption, he began to pull various books from the shelves.

"These should give you some inspiration." He crossed to a table and spread out the tomes, motioning her closer. "My father keeps a collection of the latest anatomy volumes, as well as works on all the great artists, not to mention housing one of the best private collections of artworks in the country. Then there are the family portraits," he added wryly. "Can't turn around in this mausoleum without coming face-to-face with one of the ancestors."

Walking slowly to the table, Bella stood beside him.

"But I don't have time to indulge a hobby. I have duties, my lord."

"Yes, well. Something needs to be done about that. You are clearly being worked too hard."

"No more than any other servant."

She spread her hands, and Edward frowned.

"Wouldn't you appreciate a few hours off each day to relax and pursue an interest?"

 _More than you can imagine_ , Bella thought wearily. A mere month had passed since she had been forced to leave her home, but it felt like she had been working from before dawn till after dusk for much longer. The Duke of Worthington might provide better than average working conditions for his staff, but Bella felt utterly overwhelmed most of the time. Gently caressing the cover of a book containing illustrations by the great masters, she noted its similarity to one she had pored over with her art tutor, Master Gregson.

"Of course, I would appreciate it, my lord," she said. "But I am a servant. It's not possible."

"Well, it should be."

Intimidated by Edward's fierce expression, she lowered her gaze.

"Why do you care?' she asked when the silence that followed his words stretched for some time.

He didn't reply, and she looked up to see him staring out a window, one hand gripping the back of his neck.

"My lord?" she prompted.

"I just want you to be happy." He turned to face her. "Foolish of me, as you are obviously quite content with your lot and don't need me interfering. I shall send Stephens to escort you back to the kitchen."

Leaving the books spread out on the table, he strode towards the door.

"Lord Masen?" Bella called after him, not wanting him to go thinking she was unappreciative of his gesture.

He stopped and looked at her, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you for your kind offer." A rueful smile twisted the corner of his mouth, encouraging her to continue. "There is something you could do for me—grant me permission to do—if it wouldn't be too much to ask?"

"Anything."

"I don't want to be seen shirking my duty, but I would dearly love to borrow some books. Even if I could only read for a short while before bed, it would be such a treat."

"Of course, take as many as you like." He closed the distance between them. "No doubt you will surprise me with your choices. You did mention eclectic tastes. Maybe I can help to broaden them? Or quite possibly you will broaden mine."

"Since I am sure you spent many years studying at a fine university?"

"Eton." He nodded.

"And I merely had the educational benefit of a retired governess, I doubt you will find my tastes particularly enlightening."

"Let's see, shall we?" He gestured for her to precede him towards the teeming shelves.

They spent the next hour exploring the various sections of the library, comparing favourite authors, poets, and playwrights. Bella tried to hide the extent of her knowledge, but Edward seemed willing to excuse all manner of irregularity, just as he was happy to accept her fictitious background without examining the details too closely. The time passed quickly, but then she made the mistake of glancing longingly towards the French language section.

"Bella, _parlez-vous François_?"

" _Oui, mon seigneur_ ," she replied automatically and then whirled to face him.

"There's no need to be afraid. I suspected you'd speak the language. Your mother would have taught you when you were a child."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

She released the breath she was holding, and Edward launched into a discussion comparing various authors and poets in fluent French. Bella was more than happy to challenge some of his opinions and enjoyed the opportunity to use what sometimes felt like her first language. It was a while since she'd had someone to converse with in French, as Miss Brewer had left her father's employ just after Bella's eighteenth birthday.

Forcing aside her thoughts of home, she focused on Edward's passionate defence of a poet she considered sentimental. While their tastes overlapped more often than not, it was stimulating to debate their differences. She could have continued their discussion indefinitely, but to her embarrassment, her stomach grumbled. It was well past noon, and heaven only knew what Chef Peters thought had become of her.

"It was thoughtless of me to keep you from your midday meal, and your work, I suppose." Edward brushed aside her apology and put the book they had been discussing back on the shelf. "I had best let you go."

He seemed reluctant to end their time together, a fact she found immensely—and foolishly—flattering.

"One last thing?" she asked.

"Yes?" He moved closer.

"There is a French language journal I discovered the other day full of the most amazing recipes. It is handwritten, and I wouldn't want to risk it being damaged, but I wondered if I could sit and write out some of the recipes into English?"

"Of course. Is that where you found the recipe for the chocolate pastries?"

Smiling, she withdrew the journal from the shelves and placed it on a nearby table. When she opened it to the recipe in question, Edward came to stand behind her, close enough to read over her shoulder. Leaning forward, he began to leaf through the pages, his chest brushing against her back.

Bella froze, stunned by the feel of him surrounding her. Slowly, deliberately, she inhaled, drawing his masculine scent deep into her lungs. It was intoxicating, and she swayed a little against him.

"Delicious," he murmured, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder.

Bella could have sworn she felt him breathe in against her neck.

"Pardon?" She looked over her shoulder.

"This recipe." Edward pointed. "Blueberry Flan with Cognac. It sounds delicious."

"Oh yes, I have baked that before." She nodded and then froze again. He was standing so close, her hair brushed against his cheek when she moved. Turning her head to the side, she met his gaze, noting with surprise that his eyes had darkened to a deep, forest green.

"Would you like me to make it for you?" she whispered.

Edward smiled slowly.

"I would like that very much."

"Is there anything else you would like?" she asked, savouring the feel of his body so close to hers. "Any special requests?"

"Special requests?"

Edward swallowed, and Bella watched, fascinated, as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"A favourite recipe," she clarified.

"Oh." He chuckled and stepped away. "I am quite partial to Cream of Truffle Sauce. I've had it with poached salmon, but I imagine it would go well with other dishes. Quail maybe?"

Bella nodded thoughtfully. She had only ever cooked with truffles a few times as they were difficult to obtain, but hopefully Chef Peters would know where they could be found. It would be such a pleasure to do something special for Edward after he had been so kind and attentive.

Leaving her writing out recipes from the journal, he promised to send Stephens to make sure she wasn't disturbed. Her enthusiasm dampened somewhat by her taciturn escort, she returned to the kitchens for a very late lunch. Chef Peters seemed sceptical of her excuse for being delayed until she showed him the recipes she had translated. His manner soon thawed, and they began discussing the possibility of acquiring black truffles this late in the season. When she found out how much they cost, she gasped. It would take months at her current wages to afford even the smallest piece.

"Don't worry," the chef said. "Your discovering the marquis has a favourite dish is well worth the expense, though I'm not sure who to send to market. There's a bit of an art to choosing a quality truffle."

"I've had some experience." Bella's words earned a puzzled look from the chef, and she rushed to explain. "My last employer catered to well-to-do holiday makers and cooked all manner of exotic dishes. He taught me what to look for."

The chef studied her for a long moment before nodding. "In that case, Miss Brown, I believe you have earned a trip into the village."

 **~I~**

 **I'm so glad you're enjoying the daily updates. I _might_ not manage one tomorrow, as it's our busiest work day of the fortnight, but I'll do my best. **

**xx elise**


	10. To Market

**Hello again! My niece is going to start working with us two afternoons a week after school, so I'll have less to do and more time to write. Yay!**

 **I'm so glad you're enjoying this story.**

 **Warning with mild Spoiler! There is a rough scene ahead (loosely inspired by the Twilight scene where Bella gets herself a little lost after visiting the bookstore in Port Angeles), so I thought I should mention it in case it is a trigger for anyone. There is some violence and scary threats made.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 10 -**  
 **To Market . . .**

Although looking forward to a much-needed break from work, Bella worried how her roommates would respond to her being singled out for an opportunity to escape the Hall. When Mrs Cope announced all three girls had been granted leave to travel into Worthy the next day, she was both relieved and amused by her friends' blatant delight.

"Don't be expecting such liberties on a regular basis." Mrs Cope eyed Bella in particular. "You can be grateful I'm in a generous mood."

Bella thanked her profusely, though she had a fair idea who was responsible for the housekeeper's generosity.

Whenever she thought of Edward—which was often—she felt positively giddy. Struggling to keep the smile from her face, she deflected the other girls' questions about her mood with a remark about the clement spring weather. Jessica's jealousy was something she would rather not provoke. Nor did she want Angela's pessimism to spoil the memory of the magical hours she had spent alone with Edward. It wasn't as if he was likely to seek out her company again, but if he did, Bella doubted she could be dissuaded. The risks were minimal, or so she told herself, a blatant justification on her part considering her precarious circumstance. But with her life tipped upon its head, she was hard-pressed to deny herself what happiness she could find . . . however fleeting.

As soon as the girls completed their breakfast duties, they raced up the many flights of stairs to change into their town clothes. Jessica's and Angela's dresses were more brightly coloured than Bella's, but they immediately recognised the superior quality of her gown.

"It was a gift from a lady who stayed at the inn where I worked," she said, saddened at how adept she had become at deception.

Mimicking the other girls, Bella let her hair down from her staid bun, brushing it out until it rippled and shone. They were all too old to go about in public with their hair loose, but with Angela's assistance, Bella fashioned hers in a more flattering style than the one she was required to wear for work. Pleased with the result, Bella found herself wishing Edward could see her looking a little more like her true self. To her relief, Mrs Cope loaned Bella a few coins in advance of her wages. The much greater sum of money she was given by Chef Peters, along with a stern warning not to let the others know of its existence, she tied to the petticoat beneath her skirt.

"I promise to be careful," she said after the chef left her in no doubt both coin and condiment—if she was lucky enough to obtain any truffles—were worth more than she was.

The girls travelled into Worthy in the back of an enormous delivery cart driven by Ben, one of the grooms, and accompanied by some kitchen-hands who would be stocking up on produce for the kitchens. Young Seth, the lad Bella had first encountered the day of her arrival at Worthington Hall, was granted permission to attend under Ben's watchful eye and chatted away for most of the journey. Bella liked the boy, his cheeky smile accompanied by an eagerness to please. He had recently been granted his wish to transfer from the kitchen to work with the horses, and he was very excited about his new position of stable boy. It didn't hurt her interest in the conversation that he was fulsome in his praise of Edward's 'cattle,' as he called them, and of his new master.

Bella couldn't help noticing the shy glances Angela sent Ben's way or the fact the driver watched her when he thought no one was looking. It seemed there was a romance budding between her kind new friend and the shy groom. She was happy for them, though the thought of their making a life together one day triggered a wave of melancholy that dampened her mood. Nothing could ever come of her feelings for Edward, but even after such a brief—and strange _—_ acquaintance, she could not imagine another gentleman taking his place in her affections.

On arrival in the village, Bella spotted a newspaper lying on a trestle table and bid the girls go ahead without her. After reading a headline decrying the deplorable behaviour of the runaway bride and jewel thief, Miss Isabella Swan, she sat down with a thump. While reading the article, she covered her mouth to stifle a cry. It said there had been a fire in their carriage house, and her father's body had been burned beyond recognition. The finger of suspicion had been pointed at Sir Charles's daughter, as it had been reported she had run away the night of the fire rather than marry her father's grieving heir. It also said she had stolen a priceless family heirloom, and a reward had been offered for its return and her capture.

Bella's hand formed a fist that crumpled the paper, Lord Hunter's powers of deceit far exceeding her worst imaginings.

"Oh, Papa," she whispered. Even with the Duke's help, she wondered how this tangled web of lies would ever be unravelled.

The description given of her was vague, but the article made mention of her red hair, so she carefully tucked the loose curls she had artfully arranged inside her bonnet. Lord Hunter was searching for her in a different part of the country, or so the paper said, but there was no point taking chances

Catching up with the girls, Bella put on a brave face. Spending the morning exploring the covered stalls that formed a maze in the town square went a long way towards dispelling her melancholy. After poring over the displays, the girls parted with some of their hard-earned pennies. Bella bought an emerald green ribbon the girls said went well with her hair. The fact she chose it for its similarity to Edward's eye colour was something she kept to herself. Jessica picked out a pretty cameo brooch and Angela some lace to trim her dress.

Temporarily reduced to wearing the dull and sober uniform of a maid, and with only one dress to her name, Bella yearned for her wardrobe of gowns and the luxuries she had always taken for granted. It was sobering to think that possessing only one or two dresses was all her new friends had ever known.

After lunch, tasty mutton pies bought from a street stall, the boys invited them to watch a puppet show they had seen setting up on the far side of the square. Bella wanted to find out where to purchase truffles . . . if any were to be had. Since they had to traverse the markets anyway, she stayed with the group and made inquiries on their journey.

While the Punch and Judy show was entertaining, she had learned that a truffle merchant had set up his stall on the far side of the market and was impatient for it to finish. Jessica and Angela failed to appreciate her enthusiasm for hunting down an 'ugly-looking fungus,' much preferring to follow the boys to where a group of musicians were tuning up near the area set aside for dancing . . . and drinking. The raucous laughter reminded Bella a little too much of the public dining halls she had eaten in on her way from Forkton, but the girls seemed safe enough in the company of the young men from the Hall. She didn't want to spoil their fun by insisting they accompany her, but the thought of heading back amongst the closely packed stalls was more than a little daunting.

"I'll come with ye," Seth offered, and Bella smiled in relief, Ben admonishing the duo not to take too long.

Glad of the boy's company, Bella weaved her way amongst the alleys in search of their destination, eventually finding the right stall hidden in the depths of the market. The truffle merchant, a crotchety old fellow, and his equally ancient and wrinkled wife were initially suspicious of her request to view their wares. It took quite a while to convince them she was a genuine buyer, and once persuaded, they had to send for their son who kept the family's treasure trove of truffles safely hidden. Then there was the process of choosing the perfect truffle and negotiating a price. After the transaction was complete, the merchant and his wife insisted Seth and Bella stay and share a cup of tea and some fruitcake. While she was grateful for their hospitality, Bella was unnerved to discover how late it was when they finally took their leave.

"Have you any idea which way we should go?" she asked Seth when they were back in the alleyway. "It all looks the same to me."

He pointed, and they hurried along the vaguely familiar looking path. When the silhouette of a man darkened the end of the alley, Bella tugged Seth closer to her side

"Let's get out of 'ere," he said, breathing a sigh when the man passed them with the barest glance. "The others will be wondering where we are."

Bella nodded, urging him to move quickly along the deserted lane. The markets would reopen the next day, but many of the stalls had packed up already as the afternoon grew late.

"This way." Seth gestured when they came to a junction, the path leading them towards the music they could hear in the distance. When they reached the end, the way was blocked by a large, canvas-sided carriage Bella was sure hadn't been there earlier.

"Maybe we can get out the other way." The boy looked as worried as she felt, as they began retracing their steps back into the rapidly darkening interior of the market.

"I'm real sorry, Miss Bella." Seth kicked his toe against the dirt-packed ground when they found themselves in a small opening, walled in on three sides. "I'm usually good with directions."

"It's not your fault, and it's just Bella," she reminded him absently, the lad not the only member of the staff who occasionally added the appellation. "We'll be all right. We just need to find someone to help us out of this maze."

"I'll 'elp ye, sweetheart."

A man's gruff voice sounded behind them, and they spun to face him. He was big, with a straggly beard and several missing front teeth, but it wasn't his appearance that worried Bella so much as the look in his eyes.

"That won't be necessary, but thank you for the kind offer." She backed away, dragging Seth with her.

"Ain't ye the 'igh and mighty one?"

The man approached, crowding them against a rough timber partition. His breath was rancid, and Bella averted her head, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Ah, don't be like that." He pressed closer. "I'm thinkin' ye and me could 'ave _all_ sorts of fun, but let's see what ye got in that bag of yers first."

"It's nothing you would want." Bella tucked the satchel behind her, and the man grabbed hold of her upper arm.

"Leave her alone, Mister." Seth caught hold of the man's fingers, attempting to pry them loose.

"Ye stay out of this boy," the brute growled and struck Seth across the face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

It had happened so quickly, and Bella was horrified to see blood trickling from the boy's mouth.

"Seth!" She struggled in earnest, but her attacker shoved her roughly against the wall, forcing a thigh between her legs.

"Let her go!" Seth lurched to his feet and began to hit the man on the back.

"I said, stay out of it, lad, or ye'll be even sorrier than the gal when I'm done with 'er."

Jabbing his elbow backwards, he sent Seth reeling once more.

"Go for help, Seth," Bella pleaded when the boy stumbled to his feet, fearing if he stayed he would be seriously hurt.

"There'll be no 'elp for ye, missy." The man laughed, and tore her bonnet from her head, causing her hair to tumble down around her shoulders. "Oh, ho! A red 'ead. We _are_ goin' to 'ave us some fun."

Fumbling with her skirt, he raised it and pawed at her leg beneath. Not wanting him to touch her intimately, which was what she feared he intended to do, Bella pushed against him with all her might. If she could force a few inches between them, she could raise her knee between his legs the way she had when she had felled Mike . . . or that was her plan. But the man's strength was too great for her.

"Stop yer strugglin', missy." He shook her roughly by the arm, and she whimpered.

"Don't 'urt her!" Seth shouted again, picking up an old crate and raising it above his head.

"Seth, no!" Bella mouthed the words, afraid the brute would only hurt the boy again, but he inched closer.

Not knowing what else to do, Bella sucked in a breath and screamed with all her might, hoping to attract someone to their plight.

"Enough." The man raised his fist, and she cringed in anticipation of the blow . . . but it never came. Before he could strike her, a loud boom sounded in the confined space, and her attacker spun around to find its source. Breathing hard, Bella looked past his side to see a man seated upon a black horse, a pistol in his hand and smoke pouring from the muzzle.

"Let her go!" the rider shouted, and Bella sagged with relief.

Edward had found them.

"Bleedin' 'eck. It's one of the toffs from the Hall," her attacker muttered, pushing Bella in front of him to use her as a shield. "No 'arm done, guvnor. I was just 'aving some fun with the lass."

"I said, let . . . her . . . go." Edward pointed his pistol at the man's head, his voice like ice.

Shoving Bella hard, the man turned and ran down the alley, leaving her sprawled on the ground. Winded, she looked up to see Edward leap from his horse and place his pistol in the back of his breeches. In three strides, he was at her side.

"God, Bella." He knelt and pulled her into his arms. "Have you been harmed?"

"I don't think so," she said, her voice breaking. "But he tried to steal my bag, and he hit Seth, and then he . . . he . . ."

" _Shh_. You are safe now."

Shaken, Bella huddled into Edward's embrace. His hand brushed her arm where the horrid man had grabbed her, and she winced.

"You are hurt." Edward's gaze was frantic as he looked her over.

"Only a little," she whispered, though she feared her arm would be bruised and her knees smarted from the fall. At the sound of more hooves on the cobblestone, she looked up to see Lord Whitlock riding his horse into the alley.

"I'll alert the watch," he said after Edward gave him a description of her assailant. "I doubt he'll get too far."

"Good." Edward nodded, his expression grim.

"Is the lass injured?" Lord Whitlock raised a brow at the sight of Edward cradling Bella in his arms.

"She says not badly, but I shall have her seen by the doctor."

"I'm fine, really," she insisted. "It is Seth I am worried about. The brute struck him across the face, then knocked him down."

"I shall make sure he's taken care of," Edward said, and she smiled her thanks as he helped her to her feet.

Ben and the other footmen arrived, their eyes widening at the sight of Bella being embraced by one of the lordships. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

"Don't struggle," he murmured close to her ear. "I have no intention of letting you go."

She nodded, privately relieved, as her legs were far from steady.

"Thank you for coming to our aid," she said, unable to stop shaking despite his warmth surrounding her.

"You are welcome." He leaned down to capture her gaze. "But what were you thinking going off with only a small boy for protection?"

"I'm sorry, my lord." Seth stepped forward, his head bowed. "I tried me best to protect Miss Bella, but the man was too strong."

"You did admirably." Edward reached to pat Seth's shoulder while keeping Bella tucked against his side. "It looked like you were ready to brain the brute when I arrived. You hardly needed my help."

Seth's crestfallen expression lightened, but his smile was lopsided due to his swollen lip.

"It doesn't look _too_ bad." Edward gripped the boy's chin to examine his injury. "Do you think you're up to the trip back home with the others?"

Seth shrugged. "I'll be right, my lord. But what about Bella?"

"She stays with me." Edward pulled her tighter to his side before turning to Ben. "Send my carriage back to collect us. We'll have dinner at the inn."

"Yes, my lord." The groom bobbed his head then glanced Bella's way. "Shall I let Mrs Cope know Bella is _safe?_ "

"Yes, do that, and ask her to see to Seth's lip," Edward said before addressing Lord Whitlock. "Would you mind riding back with them, Jasper? It's getting late, and I think an escort might be wise."

"Very well." He looked to Bella. "I can certainly understand the appeal, but your father won't be impressed. Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"Only what I have resisted doing for _weeks_ ," Edward snapped before releasing a sigh. "Do you honestly think he'll begrudge me?"

Lord Whitlock laughed. "His Grace will applaud your taste. It's the method and timing to which he'll object."

"I shall be discreet." Edward shrugged and turned back to face Bella, his expression softening. "Are you up to riding with me to the inn?"

She nodded, wishing she understood the meaning she sensed lay hidden in their conversation.

The others departed, and Edward led her to his enormous black stallion. Looking up at the stirrups then down at her skirt, she wasn't sure how she was going to manage it, but before she could comment, he caught her around the waist and lifted her onto the saddle. Her dress was not designed for riding, and the skirt bunched around her knees, but there was nothing to be done.

"Hold on," Edward ordered, vaulting into the saddle behind her. With one hand around her waist and the other on the reins, he urged their mount into a canter. Bella clutched the horse's mane with both hands and ducked down as they passed under a low awning. After thundering down a narrow, cobblestone alley, they emerged into an open street beyond the markets. When they reached a small copse of trees near the inn, Edward halted the horse, secured the reins around the pommel of the saddle, and then wrapped both his arms around her waist.

"Are you sure you're not badly hurt?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "I heard you scream. Please tell me I got there in time."

"I'm fine, just a bit shaken and sore. I was so afraid for Seth . . . and for myself. If you hadn't come . . ."

"It's all right. I'm here now."

Bella soaked up the sensation of being encircled by Edward's arms, wishing they could stay that way forever. But of course, they couldn't. She sighed when he released her and dismounted, already missing the comfort of his touch. After securing the horse's reins, his gaze alighted on her exposed lower leg.

"Don't," he whispered when she tugged at her skirt. He placed his hand on her knee, and she flinched.

"It's all right." He slid his hand down her calf before encircling her ankle. "Swing your other leg over the pommel, and I shall help you down."

Clutching her skirt in front of her, Bella did as he asked, coming to rest sideways in the saddle. Her skirt was bunched at mid-thigh, and Edward drew in a deep breath, bringing both his hands to rest just below her knees. His thumbs drew circles on her inner calves, his touch provoking sensations unlike any she had experienced before. She should have protested, her lack of reaction as scandalous as allowing a gentleman to see her ankles, let alone calves and knees. But she stayed quiet, mesmerised by the sight and feel of his hands touching her legs.

"Lean forwards and put your hands on my shoulders."

Bella complied, and he lifted her with his hands at her waist, holding her out from his body to allow her skirts to settle around her. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she wilted against him, a long, overdue blush warming her cheeks. She had no right to keep embracing the man but couldn't seem to stop herself. Stepping away, she rubbed her arm where her attacker had gripped it, unable to stifle a wince. Edward quickly undid the cuff of her sleeve, pushing it back to reveal an ugly red welt circling her upper arm.

"Hell and damnation."

Bella barely flinched at the curse. "It's all right. It's just a bruise. He was going to strike me, but you got there in time."

"Thank God," he said hoarsely, pulling her back into his arms. There was no place she would rather be, but a glance towards the inn revealed they had an audience. Her ability to avoid attention was truly abysmal.

"How did you and Lord Whitlock know to come looking for us?" she asked. "Do you normally come to the village on market day?"

"Not normally, no. But when I asked after you this morning, Henson said you'd gone into the village with some of the other servants. I told myself there was no need for concern after I made an example of the footmen who accosted you. But then I started thinking about the ruffians that frequent the market, and I decided to come and check on you in person. A good thing, too, since you had gone off virtually _alone_." He lifted her chin with a forefinger.

"I would have been perfectly safe if we'd not been delayed by a garrulous merchant and his wife who insisted Seth and I stay for tea. The exit to the market was blocked off, so we had to retrace our steps and then . . . "

Edward's eyebrows rose, and Bella's shoulders slumped.

"Very well. In hindsight, Seth and I should have requested one of the older lads accompany us, but I didn't want to spoil the others' fun and I was determined to find . . ."

"Find what?" he asked when her words trailed away.

Bella motioned to the bag slung over her shoulder, and Edward looked inside, frowning at the contents.

"It's a truffle," she huffed. "I wanted to cook the sauce you said you like, for it to be a surprise."

"Ah, Bella. I don't care about some exotic dish. I would much rather have you safe, not accosted and injured or worse."

"Yes, well, that wasn't supposed to happen."

"No." He cupped her cheek with his hand. "And nothing like it will occur again, not if I have any say in the matter."

Bella smiled hesitantly, uncertain as to his meaning.

"Come along." He led her towards the inn. "I want to get you inside out of the cold and arrange for the doctor to check your arm."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Humour me," he said dryly.

"But won't it look unseemly if we enter an inn together? People will _talk_."

"Let them." Edward shrugged. "After the fright you just gave me, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Oh," Bella murmured, at a loss how to respond.

 **~I~**

 **Thank you for your continued support for this story. I'm glad you're enjoying the daily updates. I'll be back again tomorrow.**

 **xx Elise**


	11. Reputation

**Sorry for all the confusion with the names last chapter. I'm having all sorts of problems with my Word program, which I've discovered hasn't been saving properly...a terrifying prospect for a writer! I'll make sure to check more carefully when I upload the chapters to FFn in future.**

 **We're getting to the part where some of you are going to want to throttle our not-so-gentlemanly Viscountward. All I can say is he is a product of his times and station and utterly oblivious to his ingrained sexism, classism, innate entitlement, and general boorishness. He does have a good heart, and he is 'teachable,' which in my opinion, is one of the most important characteristics for a hero-in-training.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 11 - Reputation**

Bella ducked her head as Edward led her into the inn. A single young lady dining alone with an unrelated gentleman was unacceptable by society's standards. A servant dining with her master was so far beyond the pale as to be virtually incomprehensible, or so she had always believed.

Edward didn't seem to think so.

"My companion has been the victim of an assault." He informed the innkeeper who was eyeing her curiously. "Send for Dr Gerandy and then show us to your best sitting room. We would like a meal, but we shan't be staying the night."

"Certainly, my lord. Would ye like me to send my boy to collect yer steed? We've stables behind the inn, and I can call the farrier to look 'im over."

"Yes, do. He was ridden hard over rough ground today and could do with some attention."

"I'll get me boy right on it." The innkeeper bobbed his head and showed them to a modest but well-appointed sitting room, a small dining table in one corner.

"How lovely," Bella said, struggling to hide her chagrin at the odd looks the innkeeper kept sending her way.

"What is it?" Edward drew her down to sit beside him on the settee once they were alone. "Is your arm causing you pain, or are you still upset over the attack?"

"It is neither," she said. "I am worried about my reputation."

"Your reputation?" He laughed, though not unkindly. "That, my darling girl, is one of the few benefits of being a member of the working class. Your reputation is of little consequence."

Bella wasn't so sure about that, though it wasn't Bella Brown's reputation she was worried about but her own. Masquerading as a servant would dent it considerably, but in light of Lord Hunter's perfidy, and with the benefit of the Duke of Worthington's patronage, she hoped not beyond repair. Spending time alone with a gentleman in a public inn was another matter entirely.

"You have nothing to fear, I promise." Edward gently stroked her shoulder.

"But what will people think?"

"What does it matter?"

Unsure how to explain her concerns, Bella decided upon a partial truth. "My father warned me I should protect my reputation at all costs."

"That is understandable. With your beauty, charm, and education, he probably had hopes of seeing you marry higher than your station, a barrister, doctor, or retired officer, I imagine. Maybe even a country squire."

"Something like that," she murmured, Edward's assumption fitting with the story she had devised.

"But surely you must see that's no longer possible?" He ran his fingers softly down her cheek. "You have travelled halfway across the country unchaperoned and are working as a maid. Your reputation, such as it was, is damaged beyond repair."

"It is?" Bella whimpered, her distress at his revelation tempered by the feel of his caress.

"I am afraid so. You've spent considerable time alone in my company. After my actions today, everyone will assume we have already been intimate . . . in my office." He kissed her cheek, and Bella held her breath. "And in the library." He kissed her other cheek, and she released it on a sigh.

Intimate? She should ask Edward to explain what he meant, since he had just informed her that her life was effectively ruined, but all she could focus on was the feel of his lips brushing against her skin.

A knock sounded at the door, and she startled.

"Don't worry. It's probably the doctor. There is no need to be afraid." He bid their visitor enter, introducing him as Dr Gerandy.

"I hear you have had a distressing afternoon, young lady." The middle-aged gentleman noted.

"A man tried to steal my bag," Bella said, while attempting to smooth her tousled hair. "He tore my bonnet from my head then grabbed my arm and gave me quite a shake, but I don't believe it's too badly hurt."

"How about you let me be the judge of that."

The doctor reached for the buttons on the front of her gown, and Bella's hands rose in protest.

"I need only raise my sleeve for you to see the bruise," she said, her gaze flitting to Edward's.

"Her dress and stockings must be removed, so I can make a proper examination." The doctor directed his words to Edward, who gave his permission with a nod.

"Is that strictly necessary?" Bella asked, piqued to be left out of the conversation.

The doctor looked to Edward, further raising her ire.

"Humour me?" Repeating his earlier request, Edward knelt beside her. When he lifted her hand and brushed the back of her fingers with his lips, her resistance melted away.

"Very well. But could you both step outside, please?"

"There is no need to put on an act on my behalf," the doctor said. "You have nothing I haven't seen before, and I'm sure the view's not new to his lordship."

"I beg your pardon?" Bella gaped at the man before looking to Edward.

"I have only _just_ taken Miss Brown under my protection," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Oh, I see." The doctor scowled. "I shall return in a moment."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay and assist you?" Edward asked once the man had departed.

"No, that won't be necessary," she said, clutching the front of her gown.

He smiled. "Oh, sweetheart, you really are an innocent, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, I suppose. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Not in the least." He kissed her forehead before leaving her to undress in private.

With her hair in disarray, and wearing nothing but her chemise, Bella felt decidedly vulnerable. The bruise on her arm stood out against her fair skin, and the doctor discovered another one on her thigh beneath the hem of her chemise. When he went to lift it higher, she stayed his hand.

"Are you certain that is absolutely necessary, sir?" she asked.

"You weren't molested?"

Bella frowned, unsure of his definition of the word. Being horribly manhandled didn't seem to qualify, though she felt it should.

"Were you violated? Interfered with in a sexual manner?" he continued, and she shook her head uncertainly.

"You do know what I'm talking about?"

"I have some idea," she said. "The man made threats, ones I have heard before, but I am not exactly sure what his carrying them out would have entailed."

"Good heavens!" The doctor sat back. "You are a virgin."

"Most definitely," she assured him. The good ladies of Forkton had made it very clear she was to remain a virgin until her wedding night. They had been less forthcoming about how one might lose one's virginal status, though Bella gathered sharing a bed with a man was the primary factor, something she had not done.

"I don't mean to pry, miss," the doctor said. "But what is a young lady of your obvious distinction doing in such a predicament? Have you fallen on hard times?"

"I have been orphaned, I'm afraid." She made the admission sadly. "Before my father died, he told me to come to Worthington Hall. He said I would be safe there, which has mostly been the case. Lord Masen has been very kind. He has taken it upon himself to keep watch over me, and after today, he says he shan't be letting me out of his sight."

The doctor snorted. "Yes, I received the same impression. I fear you have escaped the frying pan only to land in the fire. Far be it for me to question a marquis, but is he aware of your sheltered upbringing?"

Bella nodded, and the man sighed.

"Well, there's nothing for it then. At least he seems to have a care for your well-being. I doubt he'll be too rough with you."

Alarmed by his words, she wanted to ask their meaning, but they were interrupted by a knock at the door. She barely had time to reach for her dress and hold it in front of her before Edward walked into the room.

"What's the verdict?" he asked, his gaze roaming Bella's barely covered form.

"Just some minor grazes and a few contusions, my lord. I recommend the young miss apply a comfrey and witch-hazel unguent to reduce the swelling on her arm."

"Have the account sent up to the Hall, and I shall make sure you receive prompt payment."

The doctor bowed to Edward then collected his bag.

"Take care, Miss Brown." He nodded his head respectfully, improving her opinion of his manner.

Edward seemed amused by the man's actions and eyed her ruefully. "Your governess should be commended for doing an exemplary job. You could almost pass for a legitimate member of society if it wasn't for the fact you are here with me alone."

Bella laughed, the sound bordering on hysteria. "No, that wouldn't be at all acceptable, would it?"

"Not in the least." He leaned down to whisper close to her ear. "Which is why I am very grateful you are not a _real_ lady."

Her gasp changed to a whimper when he nuzzled the side of her neck with his lips.

"You needn't worry. I promise to take good care of you, _very_ good care." He stood and moved towards the door. "Starting with giving you a chance to refresh yourself while I let the staff know we are ready for our dinner."

Bella nodded dumbly as he departed, overwhelmed by the realisation of her dramatically changed circumstance. A maid arrived to assist her and show her to the ladies withdrawing room where she was able to use a washcloth and comb to repair the afternoon's damage. As she brushed and restyled her hair, grateful for Angela's lessons, she contemplated Edward's endearments and caresses. He had said such sweet things and kissed her cheeks and forehead several times now. At the memory, her lips tingled in anticipation of the same. There was no denying she wanted him to kiss her even knowing it would be the final nail in the coffin of her reputation.

A sound erupted from Bella's throat, half sob, half groan.

If Edward was correct, her reputation was long dead and already buried, and that was without taking Lord Hunter's scandalous lies into account. It appeared she had failed her father in spectacular fashion. Appealing to the Duke for help upon his return was no longer an option. The last thing she wanted was to have her shame publicly revealed, her father's name dragged even further through the mud. Neither did she want Edward's part in her downfall to become known. While she didn't think the consequences to him would be substantial—the standards gentlemen were held to seeming vastly different to those for young ladies—he did not deserve to be tarnished with the brush of her ruination. He believed her a commoner and did not know that, in keeping her safe, he had done her irreparable harm.

Bella's stomach lurched, as she considered another possible ramification of her identity becoming known. Edward might think she had tricked him into compromising her, hoping to force a marriage. A girl from her village had allowed a complacent suitor to kiss her at a garden party, making sure they were seen. The wedding had occurred forthwith, and the groom had not looked happy.

Shaking her head, Bella acknowledged the absurdity of the notion. No lady in her right mind would go to the lengths she had been required to for the purpose of procuring a husband. Compromising oneself was a risky endeavour, the fate of another young lady from her district a tragic example. She had found herself in a right pickle when her beau had refused to do the honourable thing after taking liberties with her person—what, exactly, was never disclosed—and was rendered unmarriageable. She was forced to take a position as a governess to a family with seven children in a remote part of Wales. Two years later, her parents were yet to come out of hiding, and her younger sister's prospects had been severely diminished.

Bella put her discouraging thoughts aside when Edward returned, attempting a show of gratitude at his consideration.

"Plain food but generally well cooked, or so I have heard," he said after their dinner of roast lamb and spring vegetables was served. "I usually eat at the Hall where I know the cooks are exemplary." His smile was replaced by a sympathetic look when she did not respond to his jest. "You must be tired after your long day."

"A little." She smiled wanly.

"The carriage should be here shortly. You can sleep on the return journey." He reached across the table to wrap one of the curls she had left to fall on either side of her face around his finger. "You have beautiful hair, Bella. It is the most extraordinary colour."

"It is the bane of my life," she said then grimaced at the nonsensical statement. What had always seemed a terrible burden—her hair colour—was now a matter of so little consequence, she felt foolish for raising it.

"Another reason to be grateful you are no longer attempting to gain entry into society. All the ridiculous rules don't apply to you."

"There is that." Bella laughed, the sound feeble and verging on a sob. She considered herself an optimist, but counting her current blessings would make for a very short list. If it was not for the comfort she felt from Edward's presence—a counter-intuitive response indeed—she feared she would surrender to despair.

After they finished the main course, Edward insisted she remain seated and brought their dessert, apple tarts with clotted cream, to the table.

"My lord, would you mind if I asked you some questions?" she asked when she had marshalled her thoughts.

"Not at all. I would like to know what's occupying that agile mind of yours."

Uncertain how or where to begin, Bella hesitated.

"Don't be afraid," he said, reaching across the table to stroke her hand.

"I am curious as to your intentions. You have said you shan't be letting me out of your sight. Clearly, that's not a literal statement. I assume you mean you want to keep me close, but how will that work?"

"By making you my mistress." He cocked his head to the side, awaiting her response. This was the second time she had heard Edward use the phrase, and she was certain that neither time was he referring to a wife.

"What does becoming a mistress entail?"

"Other than the obvious?" He raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers and then, shockingly, turning her hand over to place a kiss on her palm. When she didn't respond, distracted by his touch, he continued, "I want you with me as much as possible. I have tried to keep my distance, but it has proved unwise."

"But I'm a commoner." The realisation her masquerade would have to continue indefinitely caused Bella's stomach to tighten in revolt. "And you are a marquis," she added on a whisper.

"Which means I can choose whomever I please for my mistress, and I choose you."

"Will I still be a servant?"

"No, my darling girl. You will be under my protection."

Protection.

It was what he had told the doctor, what she had crossed the country in hopes of finding. But Bella had a feeling Edward's interpretation of the word and hers were not the same.

"We would spend time together?" She focused on the thing she wanted most even if it was mired in uncertainty.

"A great deal of time."

"I think I would like that," she whispered, licking her suddenly dry lips.

"I know you would." He brushed her damp lower lip with his thumb, and a shiver coursed through her.

Bella no longer feared infatuation, having long since passed that state, but after such a short acquaintance, she wasn't sure if her feelings for Edward could be described as a true and lasting love. All she knew was she desired his company more than she had any other's, and she was filled with a strange and growing hunger. Whatever her feelings indicated, they were so powerful, she couldn't imagine them ever fading. But she also couldn't, for the life of her, comprehend how they could have a relationship, an unwed couple from differing stations.

"You are so beautiful." He interrupted her musing with a caress of her cheek. "I can't wait to make you mine."

"You say the most outrageous things to me," Bella said, unable to stifle a smile.

"I plan on _doing_ the most outrageous things to you," he answered, and she blinked. "Don't worry. I shall make sure you enjoy each and every one of them."

He kissed her cheek, her moue of disappointment not going unnoticed.

"You wanted a _real_ kiss?"

Her cheeks flamed, but she nodded.

"So do I, but I fear if I start kissing you, I won't be able to stop."

"Heavens," she whispered, stunned by the thought of never ending kisses.

"Indeed, it shall be." Edward drew in a deep breath. "My carriage should be here by now. It is time I escorted you home."

He offered her his arm, and Bella's throat tightened at the courtly gesture. It felt like an aeon had passed since she had been treated with the respect she had been raised to expect as her due.

Walking through the inn on Edward's arm, she couldn't help noticing the speculative looks sent her way. With the horrid newspaper article at the forefront of her thoughts, and her red hair on prominent display, the questions she wanted answered about his proposed arrangement took on a desperate hue.

 **~I~**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**


	12. Good Intentions

**Some of you are not liking Edward very much at the moment, which is certainly understandable from our perspective. It might help to keep in mind that he cannot fathom a woman from the working classes (as he assumes) could be as innocent as Bella seems, and he honestly thinks he is doing her a remarkable favour. From everything I've read, it was considered quite an honour for a commoner to become the mistress of a powerful lord. Young women without family or support had very few options at this time in history, with a shocking number forced or falling into prostitution or ending up in 'poorhouses' which were brutal places and not easy to escape.**

 **As for Bella, she's starting to get a little more understanding of her situation, but she still has a lot to learn!**

 **x Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 12 - Good Intentions**

"May I ask some more questions, my lord?" Bella asked once they were settled on the padded seat of Edward's magnificent carriage.

"Of course. But considering the change in our relationship, I believe it would be acceptable for you to use my Christian name."

Her eyes widened. "You mean, I should call you . . . ?"

"Edward."

"Very well . . . Edward _._ "

He smiled, and Bella returned it shyly. It was an honour that indicated considerable intimacy to be granted the use of a person's Christian name, one rarely bestowed outside of one's immediate family.

"You have a question or two?" He prompted her, and she grimaced, embarrassed at how easily distracted she was by the sight of his green eyes gazing down at her . . . and the proximity of his body . . . and the gentle caress of his fingers as he trailed them up and down her arm. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, she focused on the very real danger she faced.

"If I accept your offer to become your mistress—"

"You would reject it?" He sat back.

"I have some concerns and some _conditions_."

"I see." He gestured for her to continue.

"Will you take me with you when you leave Worthington Hall?" Remaining was no longer an option, as the Duke was sure to recognise her upon his return.

"I shall take you everywhere with me, everywhere possible."

"In that case, I would like to be gone from Worthington Hall before your father returns, and you must promise you will never speak of me to him, in letter or person, nor force me to meet him face-to-face."

"I wasn't planning on doing so, but why?"

"My father held yours in very high esteem." Bella began her fabrication with a truth. "He wouldn't want the Duke to know of my downfall. I would like you to do this for me to honour his memory."

"I can take it one further, if you like, and instruct the servants not to mention you, or our relationship, to my father either."

"Do you think they would obey you once we are gone?"

"I believe so," Edward said dryly. "Especially if I offer a healthy incentive for them to keep our little secret, with a follow up payment if it _stays_ kept."

Bella's vision blurred. "You would do that for me?"

"This is one request I shall benefit from fulfilling, and as it obviously means so much to you, of course."

"You must think me silly." She dabbed at her eyes. "But reputation meant a great deal to my father. He had such high hopes for me."

Edward's expression sobered. "I am sorry our relationship cannot follow a more conventional path."

"You mean if you were a commoner or I was a high-born lady and we could wed?"

"I think I would prefer the first option," he said dryly. "If there's anything I learned from my parents' union it was marriages of the nobility are rarely congenial. It's why most gentlemen keep a mistress on the side. My father certainly did, before Lord Wilberforce got hold of his ear. I think he would still have one if he wasn't so enamoured of his new wife."

Shocked, Bella took a moment to respond. "One can have a mistress and a wife?"

Edward's laugh was hearty, but she didn't see the humour in the subject.

"Of course. A wife is the woman one is forced to marry to procure an heir and satisfy society's dictates. She's chosen for her dowry and connections, and a husband endures rather than enjoys her company, as she does his, I imagine. Ladies of the upper _ton_ are notoriously cold and unfeeling, which is why I am in no hurry to marry one."

"And a mistress?" Bella asked, appalled by his disparaging view of the woman of his—their _—_ class.

Edward's tone mellowed, as he reached to caress her cheek. "A mistress is the woman a gentleman _chooses_ to be with. Preferably from the lower levels of the _ton,_ a widow or woman of experience who has managed to break free of the shackles of her breeding and upbringing. Occasionally, she's a rare jewel, like yourself, who has risen above the position of her birth, though some men quite enjoy the company of a rough and tumble lass." He shrugged. "Either way, she is a woman whose company a man can wholeheartedly enjoy, discreetly, of course."

"Of course."

Bella felt sick to her stomach. She didn't think her father had kept a mistress, as she had fond memories of her parents being affectionate towards one another. Never in public, of course, but in the privacy of their home. It was what Bella longed for in her own marriage, or she had before her life was so tragically disrupted. Had she been naïve in her expectations?

Shaken by his disclosure, she huddled into Edward's side.

"Does this mean you have decided to accept my offer?"

"Yes," she whispered, stunned it had come to this but quite determined. There was no point denying she wanted to be with him, and with her changed circumstance, she had no idea what else to do.

"That's cause for celebration," he murmured, lowering his head to hers.

It wasn't quite how Bella had pictured their first kiss, with her mind still reeling from Edward's shocking revelations. When their mouths met, she put her concerns aside, determined to enjoy the moment. His lips were surprisingly soft as they brushed against hers. Their noses bumped, and he angled his head slightly, aligning their mouths so they fit together. She shared his breath, his scent flooding her senses, and when his eyes closed, though she wanted to continue looking at him, hers soon followed. The absence of sight heightened her other senses, and Bella whimpered, overcome by the onslaught of touch and taste and smell as his mouth moved against hers. Far too soon for her liking, Edward ended the kiss.

"You are so lovely," he whispered. "I can't believe I resisted this long."

The second kiss was deeper, his lips moving insistently, first from one angle and then another. Hesitantly, she mimicked his movements, and he pulled her more tightly against him. Almost of their own accord, her arms rose to wrap around his shoulders, her fingers threading through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. His hands began an exploration of her body, one coming tantalisingly close to her breast, and she stiffened.

"It's all right," he murmured against her mouth. "I won't take it too far. I just need to touch you."

Bella made no protest when he laid her along the wide leather bench seat. Half covering her with his body, one of his thighs came to rest between her legs, her skirts tangling around them. Something hard pressed against her hip, and she worried his pistol had slipped around to the front of his trousers.

"My lord?" She shook her head. "I mean, Edward?"

"It's all right, Bella. I'm not going to take you here, not that I don't want to."

Take her where? They were already on the way to Worthington Hall, and with his weight pressing her into the plush leather, she could barely move. Lowering his head once more, he kissed the side of neck, sucking gently on a sensitive place just below her ear—a place she had not known existed before this moment. It felt lovely, shockingly so, but when one of his hands cupped her breast, she broke the kiss.

"Edward, you mustn't," she whispered.

"Why ever not?"

"Because it's not done. Well clearly, it _is_ done, this kissing and touching, because we are doing it. But it's not supposed to be done."

He chuckled. "Not by respectable young ladies entertaining gentleman callers, but believe me, this is exactly the sort of thing men do with their mistresses."

Bella considered his words. A young lady was warned never to allow a gentleman to kiss her or take liberties with her person, a phrase she was finally beginning to understand, but the rules didn't apply to her anymore _._ Apparently.

"If you are sure."

With her desire for Edward overruling her conscience, she allowed him to continue what he was doing, her hands making a hesitant exploration of the muscular planes of his back. His hands skimmed her curves while his kisses deepened until Bella was lost in a hazy, sensual world of newly discovered pleasures. She whimpered when he broke the kiss and sat up, drawing her into the circle of his arms. Slumping against him, she felt boneless, breathless, and quite undone.

"I told you I would take good care of you." He sighed. "So, as much as I am looking forward to having you in a carriage one day, I shall show some restraint and leave that for another occasion. Our first time—your very first, I suspect—should be a tad more auspicious than a quick coupling while fully clothed, don't you think?"

Bella stared up at him dazedly. " _Have_ me?"

"You want to know how I plan to have you?"

She nodded, hoping to finally get some answers.

"I have imagined having you every way conceivable, Bella." He let his head fall back against the leather seat. "In my bed, of course. I have barely slept this last month for wanting you."

 _Wanting me to do what?_ she wondered but remained silent.

"On the desk in my study."

Bella's brow furrowed as she imagined his large, paper-strewn desk.

"I shall clear it off," he said, his clarification leaving her none the wiser.

"Up against the wall," he continued. "On the floor in front of the fire. Sitting on the couch. The possibilities are endless."

She opened her mouth before shutting it again, not knowing what to say. Should she be afraid? Edward had promised he was going to take good care of her. If he was speaking of more kisses, she couldn't pretend to disinterest.

He turned to face her. "You are not worried, are you?"

"Should I be?"

"Not in the least." He smiled and kissed the top of her hair. "But that had better be all for now, or my good intentions will come to naught."

 **~I~**

 **Hmm...that's an extra short chapter. Would you like another one tonight, or shall I just post the next one at the usual time tomorrow?**

 **x Elise**


	13. Reservations

**Chapter 13 - Reservation** s

Bella had a great deal to think about, but overwhelmed by the days many and varied revelations, the movement of the carriage soon lulled her to sleep. When she woke, the carriage had come to a halt, and she was cradled in Edward's lap, her head nestled against his shoulder.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry." She sat up, embarrassed by her position.

"Don't be." He stroked her back, encouraging her to relax against him. "I moved you, so you would be more comfortable."

That inexplicable hardness dug into her hip, and she wriggled, curious.

"Hold still." He groaned.

"But I'm too heavy for you."

Edward's body shook with silent laughter. "Hardly. Just don't move for a minute."

Bella froze, and he took a few deep breaths before lifting her from his lap, following behind her as she exited the carriage. When she moved in the direction of the servants' entrance, he surprised her by tucking her hand through his arm and leading her towards the main entrance.

"I can't go in this way," she whispered urgently.

"Yes, you can. You are with me now."

While Edward appeared unfazed to be walking in the front entrance of his father's ducal manor with a servant on his arm, Bella was mortified. Mr Henson met them at the door, bowing to Edward and admirably hiding any reaction he might feel at seeing a maid on his master's arm.

"We'll be in the green drawing room." Edward informed the butler, as he ushered Bella across the vast cathedral-like foyer. "Send for Mrs Cope. I have a matter I wish to discuss."

"Yes, my lord." Henson turned to address a couple of waiting footmen, relaying instructions. One of them gave Bella a speculative look, but a pointed glance from Edward sent him hurrying on his way. They reached the empty drawing room, and he ushered her inside, his hand in the middle of her back.

"Things are going to change for you, Bella, for the better," he said after she had taken a seat. "But I don't want to overwhelm you."

 _It's a bit late for that,_ she thought before asking, "How exactly are things going to change?"

"To begin with, you no longer need to work. I want you happy, not exhausted."

Bella had assumed as much, but now they were back at Worthington, doubts assailed her. She could certainly do with a break from the long hours, but the thought of days spent idle and alone held no appeal. It wasn't as if she could mix with the residents of the Hall. Edward might speak about gentlemen and their mistresses in a cavalier fashion, but the presence of a commoner, as she was perceived, would not be tolerated. Then there was the risk of one of Lord Hunter's friends mentioning her, and him putting two and two together. She would have to wrangle another promise from Edward, that he keeps her existence in his life a secret from his peers as well as his father if she had any hope of staying safe.

"How will I spend my time?" she asked.

"When I am busy, you can read, sketch, learn to paint if you so desire, although they are all solitary pursuits." Edward stroked his chin. "Bella, do you enjoy your work in the kitchen?"

"Yes, I do." Surprising herself with the confidence of her reply, she imagined it would be even more enjoyable if she wasn't so tired all the time.

"Then I have a solution. As well as indulging in whatever relaxing hobbies you so desire, you may continue to pursue your interest in baking . . . as long as you are available to spend time with me in the evenings and when I can arrange time during the day, of course."

"Of course." Bella stifled a smile at his autocratic tone. "But how long before we shall leave here?"

"Long before my father returns," he assured her, squeezing her hand. "I plan on checking in at Masen Park to see how the renovations are going before heading up to Town for parliament. My vote is needed if we're ever to see the abolishment of slavery."

He had mentioned Lord Wilberforce in the carriage. The famed abolitionist had retired due to ill health, but his supporters continued to fight to see slavery abolished across the Empire and not just on home soil.

"You have had a difficult day, so tonight, I want you to get some sleep," Edward continued. "I shall be busy tomorrow making reparations to the guests I abandoned in my haste to get to the village and catching up on some work for my father. It will be tomorrow evening before we can be together, I'm afraid."

Together.

"I shall look forward to it." Bella smiled cautiously, still uncertain what that togetherness might entail.

"So, shall I."

He caressed her cheek, and she thought he might kiss her again, an activity in which she was more than willing to engage. But then Mr Henson entered the room with Mrs Cope, effectively breaking the mood and reminding Bella of her precarious position in the household.

Without preamble, Edward informed Mrs Cope he would like Bella moved to the suite adjoining his. The housekeeper's eyebrows disappeared beneath her curled fringe, and she stared at Bella, mouth agape.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"No, my lord."

"Very good." He nodded before turning to address Bella. "Go collect your things, and Mrs Cope will escort you to your new rooms. Tomorrow, you can select some books from the library to read, or you might like to explore the gardens."

Bella frowned, glancing at the bag still slung over her shoulder that held her hard-won truffles. "Actually, I have a chef to placate tomorrow. I shall be busy in the kitchen all afternoon if you are to enjoy the special meal you requested."

Edward's eyebrows rose, and she held her breath, wondering how he would take her lack of compliance. A moment passed, and then he smiled.

"I look forward to that also. Just make sure to get some rest."

"Yes, my lord." Bella's curtsy swept a little lower than that of a typical maid, causing his smile to widen. It was only when she had departed, Mrs Cope at her side, that she rued her impudence. While the housekeeper never said a word, disapproval emanated from her in waves.

The attic room was deserted, her friends not having yet retired for the night, giving Bella the opportunity to retrieve her mother's necklace unseen. Removing it from its velvet bag, she stared at the linked strands of perfectly matched pearls and considered what she had learned about their value. At least now she knew why Lord Hunter had been so determined to gain her hand in marriage. It wasn't her modest dowry he had been after but her mother's necklace, though she wondered how he had learned of its existence. Her parents had led a quiet life in the country, only entertaining amongst their local society.

Bella wished her father had just given the pearls to Lord Hunter. As much as they were a treasured connection to her mother, they weren't worth her father's life. Sighing at the thought of what might have been, she tucked the precious jewels away in their pouch before hiding them in the bottom of her bag.

After walking in silence to the family wing of the great home, Mrs Cope led her past Edward's study. The housekeeper opened a door a little further along the corridor, and Bella followed her into a well-appointed sitting room, decorated in blues and creams but with a decidedly feminine feel.

"This is the bedroom." She gestured into a large room that opened off the sitting room, dominated by a four-poster bed. "Through here is the bathing room. It's been modernised with the indoor plumbing His Grace is so fond of, and through here is the dressing room. There's a small sleeping room for a lady's maid off the dressing room." The housekeeper sniffed. "Though I don't suppose that will be needed."

Bella hugged her bag close to her chest. With one battered dress to care for, a lady's maid would have little to do.

"Yes, well," Mrs Cope continued when she did not respond. "I'm assuming you know why you are here?"

Bella nodded hesitantly. "Lord Masen has offered me his protection."

"Is that what he's calling it?" The older woman shook her head. "Is there nowhere else you can go, Miss Brown? Could you not stay with friends?"

Bella thought of Jacob, Leah, and their families, but she had been warned not to contact them and didn't know what they could do if she did. They were halfway across the country, and she imagined they had their hands full with Lord Hunter as their new master.

"No. There's nowhere else."

The housekeeper sighed. "Well, there's nothing to be done. I have always considered the marquis an honourable man. We can only hope he'll do the right thing by you, whatever that may be."

Her words left Bella with an unsettled feeling in her stomach, but she remained silent.

"To clarify his lordship's instructions," Mrs Cope continued. "Your breakfast will be brought to you in your room at nine, as Lord Masen thought you might appreciate the opportunity to _lie in_ of a morning."

The housekeeper's tone and expression let Bella know exactly what she thought of this new development.

"Excepting tomorrow morning, when you are to _rest and recuperate_ , Stephens will come to escort you to the marquis's study at eleven. Depending on the _demands_ Lord Masen places on your time, you may take your luncheon with the other servants and then spend your afternoons working with Chef Peters. You are to rest after supper and be available to _spend time_ with his lordship in the evenings. Do you have any questions?"

Bella shook her head, disconcerted by the odd emphasis the woman kept putting on her words. There was nothing to fear, she told herself when Mrs Cope left her to unpack, Edward was merely doing her a kindness having her moved to these lovely rooms. His motivation was to keep her safe, not that she had been in any imminent danger sharing a room with Angela and Jessica.

Not bothering with the dressing room other than to find a secure hiding place for her mother's pearls, Bella placed her few garments in a dresser in the bedroom. When she had finished unpacking, a task of mere minutes, she changed into her nightgown and climbed into the enormous bed.

Sleep was a long time coming.

~I~

After Stephens delivered her breakfast at nine, Bella spent the morning in the library with the taciturn footman standing guard in the hallway. It was ridiculous. Edward was taking his promise of protection too far, and she would have to convince him she didn't need an escort. After Mike's banishment, and especially once word spread of her new status, it was highly unlikely anyone would bother her. As long as Lord Hunter didn't decide to visit, she should be quite safe. Although explaining to Edward her need to keep hidden without giving away the reason why was going to be a challenge.

Bella took her lunch with the staff but found it an uncomfortable affair. After being the subject of more than a few snide comments, she questioned her decision to return to the kitchen. Fortunately, Jessica and Angela seemed unaffected, though they were impatient to hear her version of events, having learned all they could from Seth.

"Tell us everything," Jessica said, pulling her aside as soon as the meal was finished. "Seth said the brute hurt yer arm, but it don't look broken."

"Just bruised," Bella assured them. "But Lord Masen insisted I be seen by a doctor, and then we had dinner at the inn."

"Did he force himself upon ye?" Angela asked.

"Oh, for 'eaven's sake." Jessica rolled her eyes before turning to her young friend. "Ye need to get it through yer 'ead that not all men are monsters. Ye like Ben, don't ye? He wouldn't 'arm a fly."

"But he's not a toff." Angela shuddered.

"Lord Masen would never force me to do anything, and he certainly didn't harm me." Bella wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to the girl to make her so fearful. "He did kiss me during the carriage ride home, but I enjoyed it very much," she admitted shyly.

"Wot, that's it?" Jessica put her hands on her hips. "Ye didn't do the deed at the inn?"

Bella blushed, though it was the mysterious _deed_ she wished to find out about when Angela wasn't around to be upset by the topic.

"That doesn't sound too bad," Angela said, revealing an unexpectedly romantic side. "Lord Masen riding to the rescue on his great stallion, taking care of ye, and then givin' ye a sweet kiss."

Deciding not to mention how far beyond sweet the kiss had gone, Bella giggled at Angela's description. It sounded like something out of an adventure novel, not that she'd had the chance to read very many. Such stories weren't included in the education of refined young ladies. Nor was anything of great value, she had concluded bitterly since being forced to flee her home and go into hiding. Before she had a chance to speak with Jessica alone, they were discovered, the two maids hustled on their way by an irate Mrs Cope.

"I shall not have you corrupting the other girls," she scolded.

Unsure how to defend herself, Bella was certain of one thing. Edward's belief that servants did not have reputations to worry about was clearly incorrect, as hers seemed to be in very poor form.

To her relief, Chef Peters was pleased with the truffles, and they were soon caught up in the excitement of preparing the evening meal. Amongst numerous other courses, the menu included Edward's requested dishes: roast quail with cream of truffle sauce and the blueberry flan with cognac he had pointed out from the French journal.

Dinner for the household was served at seven. By eight their efforts were rewarded when requests were given to the serving staff to pass on compliments to the chef for the exquisite delicacies. Even Lady Cahill sent her compliments, an almost unheard-of occurrence. Although, Bella imagined Rosalie would have choked on her dessert if she had known who was on the receiving end of her praise.

The marquis sent his particular thanks to the new pastry chef for fulfilling his special request in a timely and delicious manner. It was another example of his thoughtfulness, and Bella was beaming when she left the kitchens. She was disappointed she'd not had the chance to catch Jessica alone—Mrs Cope determined to keep them apart—but tried not to worry. She would just have to ask Edward her questions, though her shoulders hunched at the thought. Most of them were about how he made her feel and what, exactly, were the "outrageous" things he planned on doing to her. If more kissing was involved, her compliance was guaranteed.

After standing for so long, Bella's feet were tired, and she removed her shoes as soon as she entered the bedroom. Wondering what to do next, she looked around, surprised to see that nightclothes had been laid out on the bed, a note lying beside them.

 **~I~**

 **Good night, all! I'll catch you tomorrow.**

 **xx Elise**


	14. Seduction

**I'm glad you enjoyed the extra chapter. They were both a bit on the short side. This one is nice and long and, dare I say, satisfying? I'm guessing some of you will think so while others will be thoroughly appalled by Edward's rakishness. In my defense, I did mention this was the direction the story was heading in the A/N at the beginning.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 14 - Seduction**

Bella stared at the garments, the letter from Edward clutched in her trembling fingers.

The instructions were simple enough. She was to dress in the negligee set provided, wear her hair down, and present herself to Edward in his bedroom at nine o'clock. It was what would happen after she arrived that caused her apprehension.

She ran her fingers over the silky, white garments, a nightgown and matching robe that held nothing in common with the ones she typically wore other than the colour. The material was sheer, and the style would surely reveal more than it covered. Backing up, she sat on the edge of an upholstered chair, wondering what he expected of her.

It was one thing to say the rules no longer applied now that 'her reputation was ruined,' but Bella had been raised to behave modestly and listen to the dictates of her conscience. Holding her feelings to her breast like a talisman, as if her love for Edward negated all else, was a foolhardy protection. They weren't betrothed, not that it was a possibility. Peers of the realm did not wed daughters of untitled, ex-military officers, no matter how highly decorated.

Bella didn't imagine they took them as their mistresses either.

Groaning, she held her head in her hands, not knowing what to do. She had never felt this way before, this sweet longing that overpowered her senses, common and otherwise.

A noise from the doorway brought her to her feet. Edward stood in the entrance to her bedchamber dressed in informal-looking black trousers that hung low on his hips. His matching shirt was unbuttoned part way down his chest, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his forearms.

He was without doubt the most handsome man Bella had ever seen, but he did not look pleased.

"It's after nine o'clock, Bella. I am not accustomed to being kept waiting."

"I am sorry, my lord." Her voice shook, and his expression softened.

"It's all right. There is no need to be afraid."

He crossed the room, and she stepped back, stumbling against the chair. Reaching out to steady her, his right hand took hold of her left, the other coming to rest at her waist. The position reminded Bella of a waltz, something she would never do with Edward, and tears pricked at her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I can't do this."

"This?" He glanced towards the bed. "You can't wear the gown and robe I chose for you?"

"They are indecent."

He chuckled. "You wouldn't have had to wear them for long. I was planning on taking them off you as soon as possible."

Bella's mouth dropped open as she grappled with the idea of being naked before Edward. Did that mean he would be naked also? The thought was intriguing, and disturbing, and caused her stomach to flutter.

"Ah, Bella, you really are an innocent." The hand at her waist tightened, as he drew her against his chest. "I can't, for the life of me, fathom how your father managed it. You grew up in a _public inn_ , for heaven's sake."

It took the last vestiges of ingrained morality Bella possessed to form the words that came out of her mouth. "I mean, I can't be with you, like this."

Edward's eyebrows disappeared beneath the hair that swept across his forehead.

"You are refusing me?"

The feel of his long lean body pressing against hers did very strange things to parts of her body she dared not think about. But she held firm.

"It is not right."

"Not right?" He sounded more amused than annoyed.

"We are not _married_." Her eyes lowered, the heat radiating from her face so intense she felt as if she were aflame.

"Married." Edward let go of her and stepped back. "Bella, we discussed this. You are a commoner. Surely you must realise marriage between us is out of the question."

"I know. It's just . . . I am not your typical commoner. I had different expectations for my future."

"I'll say," he muttered. "Regardless of the way you were raised, you need to face the reality of your current situation. You are penniless, orphaned, and without support or guardianship. I am offering you my protection. I shall keep you safe from the blackguards and rogues who won't care about your sensitivities or gaining your permission before they have their way with you." Encircling her wrists with his hands, he gave them a shake. "They will force you, Bella . . . hurt you."

"And you won't?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"You know I would never force you, but I can't resist you either."

Bella flinched at his harsh tone, and he sighed. The feel of his arms when he pulled her into his embrace was enticing, but her conscience wasn't ready to surrender just yet.

"What if I were to refuse your protection?" she asked, her words muffled against his chest.

"Do you honestly believe that's an option? That I could let you leave knowing what would become of you?"

"Leave?" She looked up to meet his anguished expression. "Couldn't I just stay here until I found somewhere else to go?"

Releasing her, Edward threw his hands up in the air. "Go where? You think there is a better place for you than with me? I'm sorry, Bella, but you are too beautiful for your own good. In days past, you would have been sent to live in a nunnery for your protection . . . and to deliver the menfolk from temptation," he added wryly. "Is that what you want? To live a half-life, hidden away somewhere, guarding your virtue and never knowing the touch of a man?"

"Is that my only choice?"

"It's the only one I have to offer you. I am not a saint, Bella. You need to understand if you remain at Worthington Hall, you _will_ end up beneath me, in my bed."

She gaped at the image his words created, and he ran his hand roughly through his hair.

"If you leave, you might be able to find work as a governess. You are more than qualified, but not being of the gentry, I am not sure who'd take you. My father might know of a family willing to make allowances if I offered to pay your wages, but I don't know how safe you'd be. It would be different if you were the daughter of the house, your protection guaranteed on pain of severe punishment. But lowly companions, governesses, and the like, they are . . . vulnerable." He spread his hands.

"Is there no other option?" Bella hugged her waist

"I could set you up in a cottage somewhere, I suppose, and hire staff to keep you safe."

"You would do that for me?"

Edward huffed. "It appears I would do just about anything for you, but I thought you wanted to be with me."

"I do!" she exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes.

"Then why are you so reluctant to become my mistress?"

Bella vacillated. His generosity was undeniable, but the alternatives he offered sounded both bleak and lonely.

"I don't know what you expect of me," she said.

"That is easily rectified." He closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his. "What do you understand of the ways of a man with a woman?"

"When a lady, I mean a _girl_ , is married, she must submit to her husband. She must endure his attentions silently and without complaint in order to become with child and fulfil her duty." Bella parroted the incomprehensible advice she had received a few months prior, instructions which had left her with more questions than answers.

"Good God." Edward groaned. "I thought it was only the upper classes who subjugated their females with such rot. Your father must have been determined to see you wed well above your station if that's the sort of instruction he provided."

It was not her father who had told Bella such things but the neighbouring ladies who had taken a motherless young debutante under their wings. The preparations for her first season in London had been well under way when Lord Hunter's arrival had thrown her life and plans into disarray.

"What of lovemaking? Have you no knowledge or experience to draw from?"

" _Umm_ . . . lovemaking?" Edward smiled his encouragement, so she continued. Although, the only knowledge she had on the matter had come from listening to the Mallory sisters. "Well, it has to do with courtship, I suppose. Gifts, poetry, flowers?"

"When I take you with me to London, I plan on showering you with gifts." His lips curved into the half-smile she found so affecting, and Bella felt some of the tension leave her body. "Gowns, jewellery, whatever your heart desires. You are going to take the _demimonde_ by storm, Bella. As for poetry, I am well versed. I can even woo you with _French_ poetry if you prefer." He quirked his eyebrows. "But since every room in this mausoleum is already overflowing with floral arrangements, I can't quite see the point in gathering more flowers."

Bella snapped her mouth shut when she realised it was once again hanging open.

 _London? Gifts? And what or who were the demimonde?_

Her mind spun with unanswered questions, but Edward's next words distracted her from asking them.

"I mean lovemaking, in the sense of a man being intimate with a woman, of kisses, touches, and the joining of bodies."

"There will be more kisses involved?"

Edward smirked. "You like kisses, do you?"

"Well, I only have yesterday's experience to go by, but yes, they were very pleasant."

"Pleasant?"

His expression informed Bella he was less than impressed by her wording. Her offence was inadvertent, but before she could apologise, he leaned down and captured her mouth with a kiss even more passionate than the ones they had shared in the carriage. Holding her very close, he pressed his lips to hers, urging her to open her mouth. Uncertainly, she complied, and his tongue delved inside. With determined movements, he explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue while his lips tasted and teased it from without.

It was the most shocking thing she had ever experienced.

The most intimate.

The most amazing.

After savouring the sweet sensation's Edward's kiss evoked, Bella allowed her tongue to join with his in this strange, and surely illicit, dance. The groan her action provoked reverberated from deep within his chest, and she whimpered in reply.

Bella didn't understand what was happening to her, but one thing she knew. She wanted more. More of Edward. More of his kisses.

When he finally released her mouth, she was panting for breath, stunned by her loss of control.

"If you accept my offer." Edward answered her earlier question, his voice hoarse but determined. "There will be a great number of kisses involved. In fact, I plan on kissing every single square inch of your body. You have my word on it."

Bella stared at him blankly. _People didn't do such things, did they?_

Reaching up, he skilfully removed the pins that held her hair in place, releasing the tresses to tumble down around her shoulders.

"And we won't be stopping with kisses," he whispered against her cheek while his fingers combed through her hair, untangling the tousled locks. "I plan on making you mine, completely, utterly mine."

"How exactly do you intend on doing that?"

"We'll start with touching." His lips brushed against her skin, and tingles raced along her nerves to spark like fireworks when they reached the sensitive endings.

"Touching?"

Edward hummed his reply while kissing along her jaw line, his lips slowly working their way towards the corner of her mouth. At the same time, he smoothed his fingers down her arms. With deft flicks of his fingers her sleeve buttons came undone, and he reached beneath the material to caress the tender skin of her wrists.

Bella shivered.

Releasing her hands, he went to work on the buttons at the base of her throat, working rapidly down the front of her blouse. The coarse material parted, revealing the flimsy chemise beneath. With sure movements, he slid the blouse off her shoulders, frowning as the bruise that ringed her upper arm came into view.

"Ah, sweetheart," he murmured. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You need me to take care of you."

Gently pushing her blouse further, he let it fall to the floor.

Realising her nipples were visible through the worn material, she quickly crossed her arms over her chest, but Edward moved her hands away from her body.

"Don't be afraid." He touched her chin and then slowly ran his finger down her throat, over the dip between her collarbones, and along the valley between her breasts. When he reached the band at the waist of her skirt, he used it to tug her closer. Wrapping his arms around her, he dealt with the clasps and closures at the back of her skirt so quickly, she barely realised what was happening. In short order, her skirt and petticoat tumbled to the floor, leaving her standing in nothing but her knee length chemise and stockings.

"Oh." She clutched his arms helplessly as he pulled her against him, that now familiar hardness pressing against her lower belly.

"Trust me," Edward whispered. "I know you desire me as much as I desire you. It's just that this is new to you. Would it help if I explained what I was doing each step of the way?"

She nodded, and he swung her up into his arms before carrying her across the room and placing her gently on the mattress.

"I have dreamed about this moment countless times." Edward sat beside her, as one hand slid slowly up the length of her stocking-clad leg and under the hem of her chemise. "Would you like to know what comes next?"

"More touching?" she whispered, the last feeble protests of her conscience swept aside by the torrent of sensations his caress evoked.

Edward smiled.

"A great deal more touching." His hand reached the top of her stocking, and he undid the ties that held it in place. Before she knew it, he was rolling the stocking down her leg, removing it completely. He repeated the process on the other leg, his hands skimming over her skin as he exposed it to his view.

Bella moaned, and then covered her mouth with her hands.

"Ah, Bella." He lifted her hands away from her mouth before kissing her palm. "I have been waiting to hear the sounds of your passion. Don't deny me now."

Standing abruptly, he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head before lying beside her on the bed. He was beautiful, in a masculine way, better even than the pictures of famous sculptures she had seen. Tempted beyond measure, she had to grip the sheet beneath her to keep from reaching out to touch him.

"Shall I show you how I'll make you mine?" he asked, resting his head on one hand while the other teased little circles around her navel.

Her eyes flickered from his bare chest, to his broad shoulders, to his handsome face, her mind too overwhelmed to form a coherent answer.

"I shall take that as a yes." He chuckled and reached to untie the bow of her chemise.

Bella's chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths, as he slowly drew the material apart. She stared, as if in a dream, as first the pale curves of her breasts and then the dusky nipples came into view. Resisting the urge to cover herself, she watched as he drew a finger down her chest.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered while Bella held her breath.

Edward repeated the move in the other direction, his finger lazily detouring to circle one of her breasts until he reached the nipple. His hand cupped the tingling flesh, and she gasped, her back arching off the bed of its own accord. Bending his head, he placed his mouth where his hand had been, and Bella stared, stunned by the sight and feel of his kisses. When he drew the entire nub into his mouth and suckled, she whimpered in both protest and pleasure.

It was too much. The shocking intimacy, the strange, sweet sensations radiating out from her breasts and settling into a throbbing ache low in her belly. Whimpering, she raised a hand in protest.

"It's all right, sweetheart," he murmured before trailing hot, wet kisses across the valley between her breasts.

Letting her hand fall, she murmured his name, and he lifted his head to meet her gaze.

"I like hearing you say my name."

Climbing over her body, he nestled his hips between her thighs, his weight resting on his forearms as he hovered over her.

"Say it again," he said, his voice dark and velvety.

"Edward," she whispered, and he stared into her eyes for a long moment before lowering his head.

Bella was lost, all thoughts of reputation and consequence well and truly buried beneath the onslaught of his lips and hands. When he kissed her again, she responded without hesitation. Her arms reached around his back, her senses marvelling at the feel of his bare skin brushing against her own. As soon as she felt his tongue's questing touch, she opened her mouth, and they moaned in unison.

"Are you ready for me to show you the next stage?"

He raised his head after a long and lovely moment, and Bella frowned. He had kissed her breasts and put his tongue in her mouth. What else could he mean?

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

She shook her head, and he smoothed her forehead with his thumb.

"That's all right. I promised to explain each step of the way."

He seemed a little bemused by the task he had set himself, and Bella's lips curved. It seemed she wasn't the only one who found it difficult to discuss this strange and intimate topic.

"I love seeing you smile," he said before his own smile faded. "If you had any idea what you do to me."

He kissed her again, pulling her lower lip into his mouth and sucking it gently. It felt so wonderful, she moaned, moving restlessly on the bed. Still kissing her, he rolled off her body and slid his hands up beneath her chemise.

"Don't worry," he murmured when she lifted a hand in protest. He tugged at the chemise that was bunched around her middle. With purposeful movements, he slid the garment off her shoulders, releasing her arms before guiding the material down her body and past her hips. "It's better this way, believe me. The feel of our naked bodies moving together is not something I plan on denying either one of us."

Barely able to comprehend such a possibility, Bella stared as he drew one hand along the length of her leg.

"Shall I show you what comes next?"

All she could manage was a jerky nod.

"I'm going to touch you here." His fingers tangled in the curly hair that covered her most private area.

"Why?" she asked, his shocking actions goading a response from her befuddled mind.

Edward chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle her breast.

"Because this is where I shall join our bodies," he said as he gently nudged her legs apart, his fingers continuing their intimate exploration.

Contradicting his unspoken request, she tensed her thighs together tightly.

"You will like it. I promise."

Bella hesitated, absorbing the feel of his finger gently caressing a part of her body she had never expected to have touched by another. Despite her embarrassment, a pleasurable sensation began to suffuse the sensitive flesh. It appeared he was speaking the truth, and she let her legs inch apart.

"This is where I shall enter you." His hand moved lower, one of his long fingers sliding _inside_ her body. "I'm going to make you feel things you have never felt before."

Bella didn't doubt him. The feel of his finger moving inside her, while shocking, was undeniably pleasant. Then another of his fingers joined the first, and her body arched in response to his touch.

"You like that, don't you?" He stroked inside her, each time a little deeper, stretching a little further. Then his thumb reached up through the curls and teased the little nub hidden there that had no purpose that she knew of . . . until now.

Drawing in a deep breath, Bella tensed, the sensation too much to bear. Inside her body, her muscles clenched and squeezed his fingers tightly. With a groan, Edward rocked against her, and another spasm contracted deep in her belly, like a cramp but one that caused pleasure instead of pain.

She wanted to feel it again.

"You are so close," he whispered. "I want to be inside you when you come."

"But you are already inside me."

He raised his head and met her puzzled gaze. "There's more."

Bella couldn't imagine more, but then, she hadn't come close to imagining the things he had done to her so far.

"What sort of _more_?"

Edward studied her for a moment before asking, "Have you ever seen a naked man?"

Bella shook her head and stared at the prominent bulge in his pants. She was sure it hadn't been there all along and couldn't possibly be his pistol.

"Just paintings in books."

Edward laughed and leaned down to kiss her lips before undoing the ties on his pants. "A man looks a little different when he's aroused."

Bella considered his words. Aroused must be a way to describe the feelings engendered by their lovemaking, though how that could make changes in a man's body, she did not know.

With her breath coming in short, hard pants, she stared, transfixed, while he slowly pushed his trousers down over his hips. When his member came into sight, she flinched.

He was right.

It didn't look anything like the pictures she had seen. It was a lot bigger and looked surprisingly hard.

"Wh—" She swallowed hard and then managed to ask. "What are you going to do with that?"

On one level she already knew, but her mind refused to accept the seemingly impossible.

"I'm going to put it inside you," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Bella thought about his statement for a moment while studying the shocking part of his anatomy now on display. Then she panicked.

"It's too big. You will hurt me."

"It's all right. It is not too big, but I won't deny it will hurt a little the first time."

"The first time?" She searched his eyes for reassurance.

"You are a virgin, Bella. Do you know what that means?"

"Only that I was supposed to stay one until I married," she muttered dryly despite her fear.

One of his hands slid over her belly, his fingers finding their way between her legs once more.

"Can you feel how tight it is with my fingers inside you?" he asked, and she nodded. "That's because there's a membrane that tears a little the first time a man enters a woman's body."

Bella swallowed hard. "Once it tears, I won't be a virgin anymore?"

"No, you won't."

"I won't be married either," she whispered.

"No." Edward smiled. "But you will be mine."

His fingers pressed deeper, causing her belly to clench with pleasure. Bella moaned, and he moved to cover her body with his, the very long, very hard part of his anatomy that couldn't possibly fit inside her despite his reassurance pressing intimately against her.

Bella froze.

"Trust me. You need to relax."

Trusting Edward wasn't the issue, but her body tensed as horrifying pictures formed in her mind. She hadn't understood the threats and taunts she had heard since Lord Hunter's unwelcome intrusion into her life, but now she did. This was what he had been speaking of, what the horrid man in the market had been planning on doing to her.

Edward groaned, and wiped away the tears that spilled onto her cheeks. "Ah, sweetheart, please don't cry. I am sorry if I frightened you. It is just . . . I want you so badly, more than I have ever wanted anything in my life." He released a long sigh. "But we can wait if you need more time."

Bella considered her options. While she couldn't deny she was afraid of what Edward intended to do, the thought of some other man taking her virginity—by force _—_ was far worse.

"All right," she whispered.

"You want to wait?"

"No, I don't want to wait."

Edward's relief was palpable, but when he tried to kiss her, she forestalled him.

"But there is something I need to say first."

"What is it?"

Bella took a deep breath, which was difficult to do with him lying on top of her. Noticing her dilemma, he lifted his weight up onto his elbows.

"Thank you," she said, bemused by the need for courtesy considering the circumstances.

Focusing on the words she was determined to share, Bella acknowledged it had been a night for making momentous decisions, none greater than the conclusion she had reached.

"I love you," she said, and Edward's eyes widened. "I love you, and I only want you touching me, kissing me, _inside_ of me . . . ever."

He stared at her for the longest moment, and Bella feared she had offended him with her admission. But then he lowered his head and kissed her hungrily, his lips tasting hers again and again. The kiss went on for so long she was lost in the feel, the wonder, the sheer joy of it, as she found herself responding with a depth of a desire she had not known herself capable. All her fears dissolved under the onslaught of his mouth, the sweet caresses of his hands, and the rocking of his body as he urged her legs wider apart.

Then he surged forward from his hips, and Bella cried out as he entered her. Her muscles tensed, her body preparing to fight against his penetration. When she realised the pain was little more than a sting, a slight burning sensation at most, she almost laughed with relief.

Edward froze, his body hovering over hers. "Are you well? Is this . . . agreeable?"

"Yes. Don't stop." She smiled shyly.

A look of relief swept across his features, which was quickly overtaken by an expression of fierce, masculine determination. He moved, and her eyelids fluttered closed, a moan escaping her lips, and then another, as he slowly withdrew before gradually pushing his way back inside. It hurt, but only a little, the pleasure his movements engendered overwhelming the discomfort.

Bella opened her eyes to find Edward watching her. He pushed a little deeper, and she arched to meet his slow, sensual invasion, his chest brushing her breasts with each stroke of his body inside her. Her hips hugged his thighs, as their bodies moved together in the most extraordinary way, a way she could never have imagined. He was so close, touching her intimately, and she marvelled at the sweet sensations created by their joining.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered between kisses. "So lovely."

She wanted to say the same of him, but the words wouldn't come. Her thoughts whirled, as she was overwhelmed by the feelings coursing through her body.

He kissed her deeply, and Bella moaned around his velvet tongue. Hugging him close as he moved inside her. The muscles she had been barely aware of before this night clenched, triggering the most amazing sensation of pleasure she had ever experienced. Edward moved insider her again, and another exquisite spasm tightened her lower belly.

"Yes, like that, sweetheart. You're so close."

Bella didn't know what he meant, just that she wanted to feel the sensation again. The pressure grew, and her muscles tensed, the breath catching in her lungs. For a long, fraught moment she teetered on a precipice . . . anticipating . . . wanting . . . _something_. Then the pressure inside her broke, and she cried out as pleasure radiated out in waves from low in her belly. It flooded through her, racing along her nerves and shimmering over her skin like ripples on a sun-drenched pond.

Edward thrust harder . . . once . . . twice, then his muscles tensed, and he collapsed on top of her, shuddering and groaning. She held him close as her body continued to tremble, a long moment passing before he lifted his head and looked down into her eyes.

"I knew you would be like this."

Bella's brows rose, asking the question she was too stunned to form with words.

"Responsive. Sensual. But you amaze me."

"Why?" she managed to whisper.

"Because that was incredible. Not at all what one expects for a first time." He shook his head, clearly bemused.

"It was good?"

"Better than good. The very best."

His lips found hers, and he moved inside her, a ripple of sensation shimmering through her again. She gasped, clutching at his shoulders, and he smiled against her mouth.

"Bella, my lovely girl, you are temptation incarnate."

When he carefully withdrew from her body, she winced, and he paused to stroke her cheek.

"I am sorry I hurt you. It wasn't too bad, was it?"

She shook her head.

"Good."

He bent down to kiss her forehead before rising from the bed, leaving her sprawled across the mattress. Enervated, she lay watching as he walked across the room. When he reached the dresser with the washbasin, Bella realised his intention and averted her eyes. It was then she saw a smear of blood on her thigh. Her monthly visitor had ended a few days earlier, and she hadn't expected it to return. Cringing, she glanced Edward's way. He had pulled on his black pants and came to sit beside her on the bed.

"Here." He handed her a damp washcloth.

"I am s, sorry," Bella stammered incoherently.

"You're apologising for being a virgin?"

She blinked in confusion.

"It is normal to bleed your first time. You have no cause for embarrassment."

"Oh," she whispered, relieved not to have offended him, an incongruous reaction considering the things he had just done to her body.

Standing, he turned his back, and she took the opportunity to clean herself before stowing the cloth beneath the bed. She would deal with it in the morning. He moved to the dresser and rummaged amongst her few possessions, returning with the nightgown Mrs Cope had given her on her arrival.

"Not quite the quality of the gown I had intended for you to wear tonight, but I imagine you will feel more comfortable in something familiar."

Bella took it from him and dressed, dismayed when he pulled on his shirt and began doing up the buttons.

"You are leaving?"

He looked down at her, his eyes flashing a deep, forest green.

"You think I would leave you alone after we had been intimate for the first time?"

"Well, you are getting dressed."

To her relief, he doused the lights and joined her beneath the covers.

"Only because I don't want to go and fetch a nightshirt _._ My hope is an extra layer between us will help me maintain my resolve not to impose upon you again tonight. I am attempting to behave in a gentlemanly manner, since that was your first time."

"Oh." A smile curved her lips as she cuddled into his side. "I am very glad you are staying."

Edward's lips brush her forehead before he whispered, "I am very glad you are mine."

 **~I~**

 **Thank you for reading. My latest book, Return of the Prince, which is an original version of my fanfic story, Restoration, is now available on Amazon. It is my first 'illustrated' story, which makes it a little bit special. :)**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**

 **PS: I just discovered that the Russian translation of A Forbidden Love (the original version of Innocence) has won all sorts of award and has been read by over 160,000 Russians (the mind boggles!). There is even an incredible video someone made using film from Twilight and some historical movies which perfectly fits the story. The voice over is in Russian, but it's still worth watching. You can find the link on my author page, Elise de Sallier's Stories. :)**


	15. Implications - Repercussions

**There were some very mixed feelings about last chapter. Many of you thought Edward was quite tender and considerate and appreciated that he offered Bella some alternatives to becoming his mistress, but some still see his behaviour as wholly despicable. Bella is caught up in her first ever experience of infatuation and lust, powerful emotions indeed. While she is no longer a virgin, she is still quite naive . . . but I suspect that is soon to change!**

 **I've posted two chapters this time, as Chapter 15 is ridiculously short. Honestly, I have no idea what I or my editors were thinking when we split it up that way.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 15 - Implications**

Bella awoke during the night and watched Edward sleep. He was so dear to her, even more so after what they had shared, but she couldn't help feeling conflicted. If a lady's reputation could be damaged by spending time alone with a man, she could only imagine the _ton's_ reaction if what they had done became known.

A surge of bitterness rose within her when she considered society's double standard. While she had been warned, repeatedly, that even a hint of scandal could ruin a girl's marital prospects, at no time had she received the impression a gentleman's reputation was so easily tarnished. It pained her to acknowledge, but it was obvious from Edward's words he had prior experience when it came to physical intimacy.

Desire tightened her belly at the memory of what they had shared. She wanted him still and would love him always. What she wasn't certain was how he felt about her or what, in heaven's name, her future now held.

~I~

Bella woke to the delicious aroma of a cooked breakfast. Her first thought, as she stretched in her warm, cosy bed, was that Mrs Waters must have decided to let her sleep in. But an odd tenderness between her thighs caught her attention, and she sat up with a start. Memories of the night before came flooding back, driving away the fantasy of her being back home, and safe, at Swan Manor.

"I've brought yer breakfast." Angela stood just inside the door, a silver domed tray in her hands.

The bed clothes were rumpled on both sides of the bed, Bella's clothes scattered in a trail on the floor, and her hair a tangled cloud around her face. There was no denying what had occurred.

"Angela?" she asked. "Why won't you look at me?"

"I just thought ye were different, that's all. Not the sort to . . ."

"It wasn't like I had much of a choice," Bella muttered, and Angela's eyes widened.

"Oh, Bella. I'm so sorry. Did he hurt ye very badly?"

"What? No!" She threw back the covers. "It wasn't like that. I _did_ have a choice, Edward gave me several. I am just embarrassed to admit I didn't take them. He would never force me to do something I didn't want to do."

Angela placed the breakfast tray down on the bedside table and hugged herself around her waist. Bella had seen her friend like this before—pale and trembling—and with a sense of dread, she came to an awful conclusion.

"That's what happened to you, isn't it? You were forced."

She reached out to comfort her, but the younger girl stepped away.

"I'm so sorry," Bella whispered.

"It's not your fault." Angela shrugged, but her voice shook.

Bella's mind raced, considering and discarding possible culprits. Edward would never do such a thing, of that she was certain. If she had interpreted Jessica's comments correctly, then Lord McCarty's marriage wasn't _happy_ , but surely that wouldn't give him cause to take advantage of a terrified serving girl. Lord Whitlock seemed like an honourable gentleman, and she gathered Lord Edgeley had no shortage of admirers amongst the girls from the neighbouring villages. Would he find sport in forcing an unwilling partner? Shuddering, she remembered Mr Trilby's interest in her the day she had served in the breakfast room and wondered if Angela had been assaulted by a visitor to Worthington Hall.

"I thought His Grace prevented such things from occurring, that his staff were safe?"

"It wasn't here," Angela whispered. "It was when I first went into service. Lord Faversham, Her Grace's first husband—may he rot in hell—had a liking for young girls."

Bella's stomach turned. Lord Faversham had been much older than his wife, old enough to be Angela's grandfather.

"It went on for a very long time," Angela continued. "But when Her Grace found out she 'elped me. I wasn't the first girl she rescued. Plenty of others in 'er situation would have turned a blind eye; grateful the old bugger's attention was focused elsewhere. But Her Grace is a _true_ lady," she said with feeling. "I'm so glad she's found 'appiness with His Grace."

"But I thought you had lived here for some time?" Bella asked.

"Oh aye, nearly three years now. The best years of my life. I was only ten when I went into service," she added softly.

Bella's blood ran cold.

"Oh, Angela. It's a wonder you survived."

"Aye, and that's the truth. The bastard got me with child in the end, but I was too young to carry, and the wee thing came early. Nearly died, I did, I lost so much blood. That's when Her Grace found me and got me out. I wasn't good for much for the longest time, but His Grace told Mrs Cope to give me light duties 'til I could carry me weight. He's a saint, that man."

Bella stared at her young friend in shock. While horrified by what she must have suffered, it was the implications inherent in Angela's words that stunned her to silence.

One must be married to bear a child. That was the order of things. Once married, one did one's duty, and in due time one was rewarded with a baby.

Sitting heavily on the side of the bed, Bella dropped her head into her hands.

 _Yes, and one is supposed to be a virgin when one bloody well weds!_ she thought, adding profanity to the list of her sins.

A hysterical laugh burst from her lips, quickly transforming into a sob.

"There, there. Try not to worry." Angela patted her shoulder, intuiting the cause of Bella's distress. "It'd be uncommon bad luck to become with child yer first time."

Bella wanted to retort that her luck had been truly spectacular, of late, but Angela didn't deserve to be the brunt of her anger or fear. She could only imagine what the other girl had suffered, her situation far from the same. Although, she did allow that it was even more perilous than she had perceived.

~I~

 **Chapter 16 - Reassurance**

Ruth kept Bella company while she ate breakfast and then helped her to bathe and dress for the day. She had been ordered to act as Bella's lady's maid, at least for the start of each day, and Bella was grateful for the company. She undoubtedly owed Edward for the kindness and would have to thank him—if she could refrain from choking him to death for putting her in this completely untenable situation in the first place.

Angry thoughts spurred Bella's brush as she tugged it through her tangled locks, her stomach lurching every time she considered the shocking possibility she could be with child. Letting the brush fall listlessly, she sighed. While the temptation to lay the entire blame for this debacle on Edward's broad shoulders was strong, she could not deny she had done little to discourage his interest.

How different her circumstances would be if the previous night had been her wedding night and today the first day of her honeymoon. She might have felt embarrassed when she had understood what the teasing comments and knowing looks of her staff had been about. But their actions would have been well-meaning, the possibility of a child a cause for celebration for the entire household. In stark contrast, Bella was faced with an uncertain future and the mortification of having to face the people who had known what Edward expected of her all along, even if she hadn't.

When Stephens collected her from her room, she kept her eyes down and offered a mumbled greeting. They walked in silence the short distance down the hallway to Edward's study before pausing at his door.

"Ye be all right, Miss Bella?" the footman asked.

All she could manage in reply was a nod, her embarrassment acute. Yet even now, faced with the consequences of her actions— _their_ actions—Bella yearned to see Edward again. Her belly curled with familiar warmth as anticipation heightened her senses. He would want to engage her in intimacy in his study, desire surging within her when she considered his outrageous comments about all the ways he wanted to _have_ her.

Well, he could jolly well wait until she had received some sort of reassurance about the fearful future she faced, if any was forthcoming.

After Stephens announced her, Edward's response sounded clearly through the door. The footman ushered her into the room, and she looked up to see Edward leaning against his startlingly clear desk. His smile lit his too handsome face, melting her insides despite her ire.

"My lord. I mean, Edward." Bella greeted him uncertainly, as he strode towards her.

She had every intention of demanding answers, but found herself pressed against the wall, his kisses stealing her breath _._

"Darling, Bella." He pulled back long enough to look into her eyes. "Are you well?"

"Yes, thank you, but—"

He recaptured her mouth before she could say more, invading it with his tongue. One hand covered her breast while the other pulled her against him. Parting her thighs, he pressed a leg between them and rocked against her.

"I hated leaving you this morning, but you needed your rest," he whispered against her lips. "I have been counting the minutes until I could see you again."

Overwhelmed by his touch, her good intentions to gain answers before things went too far were momentarily forgotten. No protest left her lips as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his desk. Setting her on the edge, he spread her knees and stood between them all the while devouring her mouth with his kisses. It was only when he tugged her skirt high enough to expose her stocking-clad thighs and began rapidly undoing the buttons down the front of her blouse that she regained enough sense to react.

"Edward, wait. I need to talk to you."

"We'll talk later," he said.

With her blouse undone, he quickly undid the bow on her chemise, parting the material to expose her breasts. At the same time, he kissed his way down her neck and across her collarbone in a tantalising slide of lips and tongue and heat.

Bella's recently awakened senses swam under the onslaught of Edward's caresses. The rocking of his hips against her body was an insistent reminder of what they had done the night before and of what he intended to do again in short order if the speed of his actions was anything to go by. Despite her misgivings, she could not deny she wanted it, too, but her desire could not silence her fears. Willing her hands to obey, she placed them against his chest, the patterned material of his elegant vest rough beneath her fingers.

"Stop." Her voice barely rose above a whisper. Pushing against the wall of his chest, she spoke more firmly. "Please, Edward. I need to ask you something before we . . . before you . . ."

He lifted his head. "Can it not wait?"

"It is very important."

"Are you worried it will be painful again?" His expression softened. "I shall be gentle, Bella, take it slowly."

"No, that's not it." She blushed. At least she didn't think that would be a problem. The hot bath she had luxuriated in that morning had gone a long way towards easing any residual tenderness.

"There is something I need to know about what we did last night."

He eyed her curiously, and she continued.

"What we did. That is how a woman becomes with child?"

Edward's head jerked back. "You want a baby?"

"No! Of course not. Well, not now, and not like this. I am unwed . . . alone. I wouldn't know what to do or how to take care of a child."

Edward sighed and drew her against him. "I told you, you have nothing to fear. I shall take care of you."

"That means we are to have a child?" she mumbled against his chest.

Leaning back, he captured her troubled gaze. "Hopefully not, at least not yet. I wouldn't mind a babe of yours one day. I'm too selfish to want to share you at the moment, but if it happens . . ."

"But the babe would be a _bastard_ ," Bella whispered, horrified. She had heard the word but never spoken it aloud or thought to use it in conjunction with a child of her own.

Edward shrugged. "Do you know how many girls would like a chance to bear a lord's bastard? It's a virtual guarantee of security. There are some unscrupulous members of the nobility who neglect their duty to their illegitimate offspring, but you have nothing to fear. My protection extends to any children we have as much as it guarantees your future and safety. You have my word."

Stunned by his declaration, it dawned on Bella how little she knew about the man she had come to love.

"Do you have children already?"

Edward smiled. "Why? You are not jealous, are you?"

Bella gaped. While she didn't want to think of Edward with other women, it was the least of her problems. But for the life of her, she couldn't understand his cavalier attitude towards the possibility of having fathered children out of wedlock.

His smile faded, and he raised a hand to caress her cheek.

"I forget how sheltered you have been and can see I have shocked you. Don't worry. I have been very careful in the past, as I have no intention of siring children on random women. I have never even considered the possibility before meeting you. But I would rather we left parenthood for later, much later."

"One has a choice in the matter?"

Edward smiled—at her ignorance, she presumed—but she suppressed a surge of indignation. Getting answers to her questions was more important than defending her lack of knowledge.

"A woman doesn't necessarily fall pregnant _every_ time she lies with a man. It depends on whether or not she is fertile or if precautions are taken."

Bella nodded, finally understanding to 'lie with a man' was a way of saying you had allowed him to join his body with yours, though she wondered if it was possible to make it any more ambiguous. Society seemed determined to keep young women ignorant of important, life-changing matters pertaining to their own bodies. While Bella had a vague understanding of fertility, she had no idea at all to what precautions Edward could be referring.

"I should have been more careful last night, so there is a chance you could be with child . . . a slight one," he added when her eyes widened.

"To be on the safe side, I'll show more restraint in future. Once you are fully recovered from losing your virginity, there are other methods we can utilise, methods a lady doesn't have at her disposal but are perfectly acceptable for a mistress."

Bella opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"Before that curious mind of yours starts grilling me for explanations, suffice to say I shall take care of it. Now, can we please get back to the far more pleasurable business of making love rather than discussing the implications?"

His gaze lowered to her breasts, and his hands soon followed. Bella's mind continued to spin even as he reawakened her physical senses to the pleasure of his touch. With so much to absorb, and no time to assimilate the new information, she considered asking for a reprieve. But his fingers were working their magic. Then his mouth joined in the onslaught, as he trailed kisses from her ear to her lips. And all the while, he rocked rhythmically against her.

There was only so much resisting a girl could manage.

Whimpering, Bella squeezed his hips with her thighs. There would be time to make sense of everything she had learned later.

"Lean back on your hands," Edward whispered against her lips.

She did as he asked, and he arched her back with one hand, lifting her breasts high while his other hand pushed her skirts further up her thighs. Finding the opening in her pantaloons, he delved inside, his fingers teasing the tender flesh between her thighs. When he lowered his head to capture a nipple with his mouth, she gasped. The sound turned into a moan when his fingers slowly entered her, and her body clenched tightly around him.

"You are so responsive," he whispered huskily and pulled his hand away. Bella whimpered at the loss, but then she saw he was undoing his breeches _._ He was in a much greater hurry than he'd been the night before, not that she was complaining, but when he released his aroused member, she swallowed hard. It looked quite intimidating in the harsh light of day and even bigger than she recalled.

"Don't be afraid. I promise to be gentle."

She looked up to meet his gaze. There was no denying the tenderness she saw in his eyes, at least, she hoped that's what it was. Her imagination could be reading more into his expression than was there, a case of desperately wishful thinking.

Unable to resist, she looked back to where he was about to join their bodies, her eyes widening at the shocking sight of him slowly entering her. They both moaned, and though she was a little tender, Bella wondered if it could possibly feel as good for him to be inside her as it was for her to be filled by him.

"Oh, Edward," she whispered as he slowly withdrew and then entered her again. His penetrating of her body was a remarkable sight, the sensation beyond anything she could have imagined. She wanted to keep watching, but her eyes fluttered closed, and her head fell back.

"Are you in any pain?" he asked hoarsely.

Bella shook her head, negating the minor discomfort as irrelevant and quite willing to beg for him to continue.

"Good."

He increased the pace, and her breath came in quick pants.

" _Very_ good," Bella agreed. She was shocked by how wonderful it felt to have him moving inside her, shocked, enthralled, and unable to resist giving in to the sensations of her newly awakened body.

Her conscience seemed to have given up for now. She was well aware what they were doing was considered immoral. They weren't married, joined physically but not in the eyes of God or man, but that no longer seemed relevant. Bella would never marry now. She loved Edward, had given herself to him fully, and could not conceive of opening her heart—or body _—_ to another.

When he lowered his head to suckle at her breasts, she could no longer think—only feel.

"Now, sweetheart," he urged after moving rhythmically inside her for a long, lovely while.

"Hmm?"

"Like last night. I want to feel you reach your peak."

Assuming he was referring to the extraordinary pleasure that had overcome her at the culmination of their first bout of intimacy, Bella was more than willing to oblige him. She just didn't know how.

"Let me help you," he said when she admitted as much. Leaning back a little, Edward reached down between their bodies to rub his thumb in a circular motion over the little nub at the top of her sex. Pleasure cascaded through her, and she cried out. He increased the pressure while moving inside her, and her body tightened around him.

"Yes . . . like that." He let his head fall forward and nuzzled her neck.

This time, when she scaled the extraordinary peak she had discovered for the first time the night before, Bella had some understanding of what awaited her . . . what her body was capable of. When she finally reached the zenith, she hovered in anticipation for a sweetly aching moment before tumbling over into an ecstasy so intense, she was surprised it didn't sweep her away. She would have collapsed onto Edward's desk, but he pulled her against him, his arms holding her close as he continued to move inside her. After her tremors subsided, he groaned loudly and then, to her surprise, suddenly withdrew, placing a cloth between them. Holding her tightly, he reached his own peak, shuddering as her body continued to pulse, despite the fact he was no longer inside her.

Breathless, her heart racing, she stayed wrapped in Edward's arms as her senses gradually calmed. Despite the continued intimacy of their embrace, it didn't feel the same with all the clothing in the way, and Bella appreciated anew his insistence they should both be naked the first time they had been intimate. She had preferred it when he had finished inside her, but she could not risk a child. As to their clothing, they were in Edward's study, not the privacy of her bedchamber.

A brisk knock at the door startled Bella from her reverie.

"Lords McCarty, Whitlock, and Edgeley to see ye, my lord."

Stephens's announcement was made in a loud voice through the door, shocking her with the reminder he had been close by the entire time.

Edward sighed and lifted his head. "Don't worry," he told her before calling out. "Tell them I shall be with them in a few minutes."

Releasing her, he turned aside to right his clothing. Bella tugged her skirts down past her knees before moving to the edge of the desk. Panicked at the thought of the gentlemen discovering her in a state of dishabille, she eyed the door to Edward's suite which she assumed must somehow connect to her own. She was about to make a dash for it, when he caught her around the waist.

"Allow me, my darling." He lowered her to the floor before kissing her forehead.

"Edward." She glanced towards the door to the hallway. "They are right outside!"

"And that's where they shall stay until I bid them enter," he said before capturing her mouth in a tender kiss.

Trusting in his conviction that they would not be interrupted, Bella allowed herself the pleasure of his embrace.

 **~I~**

 **Hmmm . . . I'm not sure that trusting Edward is all that wise just yet. He might be the more experienced of the two, but it seems he also has some growing up to do!**

 **Thanks for all your reviews (even the frustrated or grumpy ones!), and thank you so much to those amazing readers who have purchased a copy of Return of the Prince.**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**


	16. Assumptions - Answers

**To those of you who think our Viscountward is spoiled, I wholeheartedly agree. It wouldn't suprise me if the description, 'white privilege' was created for young, male members of the British nobility, like Edward and his friends. Isabella isn't the only one encumbered by ignorance, though theirs is of a different sort.**

 **I've included two chapters again because both are quite short, and if you're anything like me, you're dying for Bella to get some answers. Both these chapters should probably come with a warning, the first due to boorish behaviour and the second due to some shocking revelations about the world in which Bella is living.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 16 - Assumptions**

"Masen, you sly dog, I knew you were up to something."

Bella gasped at the sound of Lord Edgeley's voice, and clutched the edges of her blouse together. The gentlemen had entered quietly, and prematurely, just as she had feared.

"I asked you to wait." Edward ground the words between his teeth, his displeasure unmistakeable.

"We weren't expecting you to be dallying with one of the maids." Lord McCarty laughed. "I didn't believe Jasper when he said you had ridden into the village, intent on saving the gal's virtue only to take it for yourself. When I think of the times I've had to listen to Uncle pontificate on the proper treatment of the working classes, while you nodded your agreement. A tad hypocritical, if you ask me."

"Can you blame him?" Lord Edgeley said. "It's the pretty red-head he was brooding over a while back. Been wondering what happened to her. It would seem your cousin has had her stashed away for his own private use."

"Looks like my timing's perfect then." Lord McCarty spoke in a cheery tone. "I have decided to take your advice, after all, Ed, and look outside my marriage bed for some entertainment _._ I shall be more than happy to keep your secret from Uncle, as long as you are willing to share. Or you can let me bed the lovely Miss Brown when you are finished with her. Either way is fine by me."

"Count me in," Lord Edgeley said with obvious enthusiasm.

Bella began to tremble, and Edward's grip on her tightened.

"That won't be happening," he said.

"Oh, come on. Don't be prudish." Lord Edgeley strolled closer. "Remember the fun we had when you boys first came up to Town? I made sure you were initiated into all sorts of debauchery at Madame Bovary's. We could teach your new plaything some tricks. Set her up to earn some blunt when we're finished with her."

While Bella didn't fully understand his meaning, she knew enough to be afraid, _very_ afraid. Her muscles tensed, as she prepared to flee at the first opportunity.

"It's all right," Edward whispered in her ear and then pushed her behind him, shielding her with his body.

"You have both misunderstood," he said with icy calm. "Bella is not a 'plaything,' and you will not touch her under _any_ circumstance."

Bella peeked past Edward's arm, and Lord Whitlock sent her an apologetic glance. Lord Edgeley, on the other hand, wore a calculating expression, while Lord McCarty scowled.

"Don't see how you can stop us, cousin. Or are you the only one allowed to break the rules?"

"It's not about the bloody rules, Emmett!" Edward shouted. "We're not children competing for Father's attention any more. She is important to me, damn it. You will _not_ touch her!"

Lord McCarty stepped back. "But she's a maid?"

"I don't care what she is. If any of you go near her, I will call you out, do you understand?"

Edward's words were met with stunned silence.

"I'm sorry, Edward." Lord Whitlock grimaced. "I shouldn't have said anything to them. I thought it would be a bit of a lark, that they'd bring you to your senses. But I can see you are serious about the lass."

"I know the Duke frowns on this sort of thing," Lord Edgeley said. "But it's been damned inconvenient not taking what's on offer. If I have misunderstood, do let me know, as I think your gal's fair-haired friend would be up for some sport."

Bella shuddered. While Lord Edgeley might be right about Jessica's willingness to fraternise, as she called it, she was afraid the men would turn their attention Angela's way. She would never forgive herself if the younger girl's safety was compromised because of her.

"The rules still apply. Bella's situation is different," Edward said, his words offering her some small comfort.

Lord McCarty snorted. "Try selling that to Uncle when he returns."

"I shall give you whatever you want, but you are not to tell Father."

"You don't think he'll notice you have set her up in the suite adjoining yours?"

"Bella won't be here when he returns," Edward said, and she sagged against his back with relief.

"Hell, Masen, if you are just going to pack her off to some brothel when you are finished with her, there's no need to be so possessive," Lord Edgeley said. "You might not want to share, but it wouldn't hurt to send her our way when you are done. You are not the only one who likes the look of her."

"I won't be _done_ with Bella. I shall be gone before my father returns, and she is coming with me. I am taking her under my protection."

Lord McCarty's eyes widened in shock. "You mean to set her up as your mistress?"

Lord Whitlock responded to Edward's sharp nod with a whistle. "I thought this was just a fleeting dalliance. You do realise the vote is planned for the end of this parliamentary sitting?"

"That is irrelevant. This is separate."

Lord McCarty laughed. "Hell and damnation, Edward. You play the game without putting a foot wrong all these years, and you are going to risk it all for a bit of skirt? _Common_ skirt at that?"

"The risk is mine to take. Have I made the consequences of trespassing clear?"

"Crystal, dear cousin, though I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when Uncle gets wind of this, not that _I'll_ be telling." He smirked. "I like the look of that black stallion of yours. Sabre, is it? You will transfer him to my ownership if you want my silence _."_

Edward flinched then nodded jerkily.

"Edgeley?" Edward turned to his friend, though one not as close as Lord Whitlock as they were not on first name basis.

"Didn't mean to offend." The baron spread his hands. "I just never expected you to get so territorial over one of the serving lasses. It's not like you're the sort to actually fall for a female."

Bella couldn't see Edward's expression, but whatever it revealed caught the other men's attention.

"Damn it all, Edward." Lord McCarty shook his head. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"He's not thinking, not with his head at any rate." Lord Whitlock sighed.

"Don't worry, McCarty," Lord Edgeley added. "The novelty will wear off, and he might even reconsider the whole 'no sharing' idea just to spice things up."

Edward swore, the muscles in his back bunching tightly. If he hadn't been shielding her so protectively, Bella thought he might have launched himself at the other man.

"Whoa . . ."

Bella glanced past Edward to see Lord Edgeley raise his hands and slowly back away.

"It was just a jest."

"Get out of here, all of you." Edward turned his back, shielding Bella from their view as they departed. With his arm around her shoulders, he led her over to sit on the couch before striding to a sideboard. She couldn't stop shaking, her teeth chattering so hard her jaw hurt.

Returning with a glass of amber liquid, he crouched down beside her. "Here, sip this slowly."

She did as he asked, the liquid burning all the way down her throat. It wasn't sherry. After setting it aside, he began to rub her hands.

"God, your fingers are like ice. Come, let me warm you."

Edward lifted her into what Bella was fast deciding must be a favourite position of his—on his lap. She burrowed into his embrace, her thoughts oddly blank. He rocked her in his arms for a while before lifting her chin to meet his worried gaze.

"Sweetheart, talk to me," he said. "You do know I would never let anyone touch you?"

The numbness dissipated. Anger and despair flooded the vacuum created by its absence, and Bella burst into tears. Under normal circumstances, she considered herself a level-headed girl, not overly prone to weeping, but after everything she had endured, the horrid encounter with Edward's friends was too much to bear.

" _Shh_ , it's all right." He crooned against her ear. "They just don't understand."

"What?" Bella pushed away from his chest. "What don't they understand? That you have _laid_ with me without us being wed? Why wouldn't they think they can take their turn when you are 'done with me'?"

Edward flinched, but Bella did not rescind her words. Wiping her sodden cheeks with a linen handkerchief he produced, she noisily blew her nose, not caring one iota it was considered unladylike to do so, especially in front of a gentleman.

Ha! Edward was as much a gentleman as she was a member of royalty.

Grumpily shoving the handkerchief into his hand, Bella crossed her arms. She was sick of feeling like a victim, but she couldn't seem to find an escape from the farce her life had become.

"I can't do this anymore, Edward. I am sorry, I thought I could, but I am not the person you think I am."

"Please, Bella, don't let my idiot cousin and friends come between us. Can't you tell how I feel about you?"

"You find my body appealing." She acknowledged bitterly. "You desire me."

"I do, more than you can imagine, but it's more than just your beauty that draws me to you. You are charming, intelligent, and so damned interesting. I never know what to expect from you, and I certainly never thought I would feel this way."

"Feel what way?" she asked, his words battering at her fragile defences.

"I care about you, Bella. I adore you."

"You do?" she whispered, the look in his eyes causing the fight to drain from her body.

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 16B - Answers**

After resting in his arms for a while, Bella insisted she be allowed to return to her room. When Edward reluctantly departed, leaving her laying on the bed, she curled into a ball and stared at the wall for the longest time.

"Miss Bella, are ye awake?"

Angela's voice startled her, and she looked up to see her friend standing in the door to the bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" Bella sat up and pushed the hair that had come loose from her bun away from her face. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

The last thing she wanted was for Angela to get into trouble on her account.

"I am workin'. I'm watchin' over ye and seein' if there's anythin' ye need."

"But I thought you were only supposed to help me first thing in the morning?"

"That's what Mrs Cope said, but Lord Masen came down to the kitchens in person. He made such a fuss." Angela's eyes widened. "And now I'm to be yer lady's maid full time."

"I bet that went over well," Bella muttered.

"Not particularly." Angela giggled. "Mrs Cope was none too pleased. She's lost a pastry chef and a maid all in the space of a couple of days."

"True." Bella allowed herself a shrug. "I was planning to keep working in the kitchen, but now, I am not so sure."

The thought of facing the staff now their assumptions about her were based in fact was far from appealing.

Despite all she had learned in the previous twenty-four hours, there was still a great deal she did not understand. While she couldn't bring herself to regret having surrendered to Edward or deny the pleasure she had experienced in his arms, as far as she was concerned, ignorance had brought her anything but bliss. Heaving a sigh, Bella came to a decision.

"Angela, where would Jessica be working at the moment?"

"We was supposed to be polishin' the silverware this afternoon. I guess she'll be doin' it by 'erself. Why?"

"I have some questions I am hoping she might be able to answer for me. Do you think she would like some help?"

"I'm sure she would."

After straightening her skirt, Bella took hold of Angela's hand and led her towards the door.

It was time to get some answers.

~I~

"Wot are ye two doin' 'ere?" Jessica looked up from where she sat all alone at a worktable, an intimidating pile of silverware in front of her. "The _lady's maid_ and the, I dunno. Wot they callin' ye now, _Miss_ Bella?"

"Don't be like that, Jessica," Angela said. "I didn't ask for the new position, and Bella's 'ere to 'elp. She 'as a favour to ask."

"A favour? Miss 'igh and mighty wants somethin' from the likes of me? Well that's a nice to do." Jessica's expression turned calculating. "What's in it fer me?"

Bella stared at her for a moment before an idea sprang to mind. On the way over, Angela had stunned her with the news she had to be back at her suite in time to meet the seamstress who wanted to measure her for her new wardrobe.

"What new wardrobe?" she had asked.

"The one Lord Masen arranged to 'ave delivered while ye wos out. He 'ad the storage rooms raided for gowns that 'is sister and mother 'ad put aside. Like _new_ they are. They're to be altered to fit ye, and not just gowns. There's petticoats, nightgowns, slippers, shawls—ye name it—and all for ye. There must be close on two dozen gowns to choose from, and in every imaginable colour. Some of the styles are a bit outdated, or so the seamstress said when she dropped by . . . _ye was busy_ ," Angela muttered _sotto voco_. "She said she can alter them to fit ye and look like the latest fashions."

Bella had wanted to rush straight back to her suite and see this marvel with her own eyes, but she had stayed her course. The knowledge she would no longer be restricted to one plain gown or her drab uniform had gone some way towards lightening her mood, and she hoped it would do the Same for Jessica.

"What would you say to helping me in exchange for a new dress? And one for you, too, Angela. Unless either of you would mind wearing a hand-me-down?"

"Mind? Ye think we'd _mind_ a new dress that wos once a lady's gown? Are ye mad?" Jessica said. "And ye'll 'elp with the polishing?"

Bella nodded, and the chubby blond girl's face lit with glee.

"Wotever ye want, it's yers,"

Bella smiled at the transformation.

"So, out wiv it." Jessica waved a hand after Angela and Bella had taken their places and set to work polishing. "Wot do I owe ye fer a new dress? Must be sumpt'in' pretty big, I reckon."

"Information, that's all. I am tired of not knowing what's going on or what is expected of me. I have a myriad of questions I am hoping you will be able to answer for me."

Jessica's scowl deepened. "Don't know nothin' about no myri . . . meeria . . . wothaveye. But ye can ask if ye like."

"You mentioned your cousin works in a brothel, and I was wondering what happens there? What does a _whore_ actually do?"

Both girls gaped, and Bella's heart sank. She already suspected she wasn't going to like the answer, but she feared it must be even worse than she had imagined.

"Jessica?" she prompted.

"Wot the 'ell ye want to know about them things for?"

The truth was required if Bella was to receive the information she needed. So, she told them about the incident with Edward's cousin and friends, shyly alluding to what had preceded it.

"Lord Masen promised he won't let anyone else touch me, but the other lordships seemed convinced he will eventually tire of me, and once that occurs, I shall be passed off to another gentleman or to work in a brothel."

"Bleedin' 'eck." Jessica let out a slow breath.

"At least Lord Masen told the other lords not to touch ye," Angela said encouragingly.

"Yeah, but 'ow much trust can ye put in the promise of a toff?" Jessica voiced the question that troubled Bella's thoughts.

"Which is why I want to know what the lordships were talking about," she said. "I should have told you girls of my ignorance regarding Lord Masen's intentions earlier, but I didn't realise how little I knew."

"Aye. It's hard to know 'ow iggerent ye are when ye're the one that don't know nothin'." Jessica pulled a face.

"Precisely." Bella nodded after taking a moment to decipher Jessica's convoluted phrasing. "Will you tell me what those words mean?"

The girls exchanged a look.

"A brothel is a place where girls work earnin' money for the codger wot owns it by servicin' the men that goes there to get their jollies."

"Servicing?"

"Yeah, on their back. Ye know." Jessica shrugged. "Spreadin' their legs for the fellas who pay to get on top."

Bella gasped. "You mean . . . you mean the girls are paid to _lay_ with the men?"

She took Jessica's shrug as confirmation and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

"The girl doesn't know the man beforehand? She is expected to lay with a different man every night?"

Jessica snorted. "Not just one fella. Try about ten."

Bella frowned. "Ten different men in one night?"

"Every damned night, or so me cousin told me when she ran away once. She wos only 'ome a couple of days afore they got 'er and dragged 'er back."

Jessica's words and the horrifying pictures they conjured followed Bella as she ran for the water closet at the end of the hallway. It seemed a wise move when it became apparent the contents of her stomach would be making an unwelcome appearance.

The girls followed, Angela crouching beside her and holding a few loose strands of hair back from Bella's face while her insides heaved.

"Is she up the duff?" Jessica asked.

Angela shook her head. "Lord Masen only had 'er for the first time last night."

"And again this mornin' in his study, the lucky cow." Jessica grumbled, as Bella wiped her mouth with the edge of her skirt.

After helping her walk unsteadily back to the workroom, the girls focused on polishing the silverware in front of them while Bella regained her composure . . . as best she could.

"A whore is the title given to girls who work in such places?" she asked when she felt up to speech.

"And a whole lot of other nasty names," Jessica said. "Girls who sell their bodies for a livin' don't always work in brothels. Sometimes they work out of alehouses or off the street, but there's always some fella lordin' it over 'em and keepin' most of the dosh."

"But why would a girl choose such a horrid profession?"

The look Jessica gave her told Bella she thought her question was particularly stupid.

"Nobody _chooses_ the life. Half of them got took right off the street when they wos just girls, thirteen or fourteen if they were lucky. But once ye've been took, there ain't no goin' 'ome."

"What? But that's . . . that's . . ."

"The law, as long as the girl's no younger than ten," Angela said.

Bella stared disbelieving. "What do you mean, the law?"

"Age of consent, they call it." Jessica grimaced. "As long as the girl's ten, the fellas ain't doin' nuffin' wrong. She's supposed to give her permission before, _ye know_ , but nobody worries about that. Not like no one would listen if she complained."

Both girls shrugged, and Bella stared from one to the other.

"But they're just children. Little girls. Does the King know? The House of Lords? Surely, if somebody in power knew, they would change the law."

"Oh, they know, all right. 'Tis the bleedin' lords in Parliament that make the rules. They don't want anything changed 'cos it suits 'em. Most of 'em like their girls young, the younger the better."

"Not all the lords are like that, surely?" Bella fought to keep her stomach from heaving again. "Not the Duke or Lord Masen?"

"No, not them."

Angela's ready agreement was a balm to Bella's battered soul.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that's one of the changes His Grace is fightin' for with them new laws he's trying to get passed along with stoppin' people being sold as slaves. Raisin' the age of consent."

"Never bleedin' 'appen," Jessica interjected.

"At least His Grace and Lord Masen are tryin' to change things with that alliance they're a part of," Angela said.

Bella's relief at the knowledge Edward was his father were both opposed to such dreadful practices was profound. But it didn't change the awful reality she was only just becoming aware of.

"But how can a girl be forced to work in such a manner? What about the girl's family, her parents? Don't they get a say?"

"Sometimes it's the girl's family wot sold her for a few coins in the first place." Jessica shrugged. "The brothel owners ain't idiots. They don't take girls from families that'll make too much fuss. If they do, they don't put 'em to work straight away in case the family's got money to buy 'em back, but that don't usually 'appen. Even if the girl ain't been used yet, the damage is already done, cos of what people think, if ye know wot I mean."

Bella did indeed and nodded absently. It was as if the world she had been raised in was a fairytale and reality a dark and terrifying place.

"Older girls sometimes take up the trade 'cos they got no other way to keep from starvin' to death," Jessica continued.

"Are there no alternatives for a girl without support?" Bella braced herself in anticipation of the answer.

"She gets into service, if she's lucky, and hopes like 'ell the master of the 'ouse ain't too evil a bugger. Otherwise, it's a whorehouse or the poorhouse, and they're both about as bad as each other."

"Oh, dear."

Angela reached to place a hand over Bella's trembling fingers.

"Don't worry. That won't 'appen to ye. Lord Masen said 'e'll take care of ye, didn't 'e?"

She nodded shakily.

"Well, ye don't have nothin' to worry about then, do ye?"

"Nothing at all," Bella whispered, thinking of the many things she needed to speak with Edward about now that she finally— _finally—_ understood the dangers she faced. As if the mere thought of one day having to live without him wasn't terrifying enough.

 **~I~**

 **I am still horrified by the research I did regarding the age of consent for girls in the 1800s. In most of Europe, it was a little higher, so twelve rather than ten, but in many U.S. states it was lower, as young as seven. As long as the parents gave their consent, young girls could be married off without getting a single say in the proceedings. The battle to raise the age of consent to sixteen took decades and was resisted at every turn by men in power, both in the churches and governments. A dark and terrifying world indeed!**

 **On that cheery note, I'll see you all tomorrow.**

 **xx Elise**


	17. Discovery

**This chapter is much lighter in tone than the previous two - a welcome reprieve I think we'll all agree!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 17 - Discovery**

In stark contrast to the horrifying revelations of the day, Bella spent the remainder of the afternoon being fitted for one beautiful gown after another.

"The styles are no longer in the latest mode, but the fabrics and trims are of the highest quality, my lady, I mean, miss, I mean . . ."

"Just call me Bella," she told the stammering seamstress.

"It's 'cos she knows she'll 'ave to answer to Lord Masen if she upsets ye," Angela explained after serving Bella's afternoon tea. "The 'ousehold's in a right tizz. Lord Masen overheard Lady McCarty telling Lord McCarty to 'ave ye banished from the 'ouse. She ain't too 'appy about ye bein' set up as Lord Masen's mistress right under her nose." Angela pulled a face. "Anyway, Lord McCarty told 'er 'e didn't want to interfere, something about some prime 'orse flesh bein' at stake. Then Lord Edgeley told her not to worry 'cos once Lord Masen tired of ye, 'e was going to take ye off his 'ands and teach ye some tricks. Ye wouldn't like them, believe me."

At Bella's sharp intake of breath, Angela patted her hand.

"Ye don't need to worry, 'cos straight after that, Lord Masen burst in and punched Lord Edgeley in the face. Gave 'im a terrible black eye, 'e did. Then 'e told Lord Edgeley 'e wasn't welcome at Worthington Hall any longer, and that if any rumours surfaced about Lord Masen acquiring a red-'aired mistress, 'e'd know who to blame and would challenge 'im to a duel!"

"He didn't."

"He _did_. Bevan was standin' in the corner and 'eard the whole thing."

"What of Lady McCarty's threats?"

"That's the best part." Angela's expression was positively gleeful. "Lord Masen told Lady McCarty to stop bein' a miserable cow. He said if she caused ye a scrap of trouble, 'e'd put 'er over 'is knee and give 'er the floggin' 'er husband should 'ave given her long ago. Bevan said it was all 'e could do not to cheer."

"Lord Masen called Lady McCarty a miserable cow?"

Angela shrugged. "The exact words might've got changed in the tellin', but that was the sentiment."

"And a welcome one, indeed." Bella nodded, though she was a little disconcerted at the thought of Edward chastising a grown woman. Despite Lady McCarty's provocative behaviour, she hoped his threat was empty. She certainly didn't fancy being on the receiving end of his ire if that was what he was capable of.

"The servants are right 'appy Lord Masen gave Lady McCarty wot for," Angela added. "But they're thinkin' they better start bein' nice to ye or they'll be next in line."

Bella sighed.

Returning to the waiting seamstress and her trembling assistant, she did her best to put them at ease, treating them as she would a merchant or unfamiliar servant back at home. While making the adjustments needed to fit the gowns to Bella's measurements, the seamstress made suggestions for how to modernise the dresses. Smiling gratefully, Bella offered her encouragement and thanks.

Half the dresses were being adapted from Lady Rebecca's castoffs, a young maiden of similar age to Bella. Edward's sister was shorter, the gowns—made from light-coloured fabrics and in modest styles befitting an unmarried young lady—requiring letting down at the hem and out at the bust. The rest of the gowns had belonged to Edward's mother and were made from richer fabrics. They needed little alteration, but the necklines were lower and designs bolder than was typical for one of Bella's age and marital status. Not that her current circumstances were at all typical.

With Angela's help, she chose pretty but not overly extravagant dresses for Jessica and Angela that they would alter themselves. It didn't seem appropriate to ask the seamstress or her assistant to do the work.

"Are ye sure it's all right for us to take 'em?" Angela frowned.

"It is the least I can do for the two of you in return for your friendship. I shall speak to Lord Masen and ask him to clear it with Mrs Cope. I am sure he won't mind."

Angela giggled. "I think ye could get Lord Masen to agree to just about anythin'."

"Here's hoping," Bella murmured to herself, as her young friend-come-lady's maid assisted her into a gown that had needed only minor changes. Made from a buttercup-yellow fabric with puffed sleeves, it had a fitted but not overly revealing bodice and a gracefully flowing skirt.

Edward had left no specific instructions for the evening, other than to send a message via Stephens he would be joining Bella after supper in her sitting room. Nor had he delivered any more shockingly revealing gowns. The nightwear that had arrived along with the gowns, while of the finest quality, was more in keeping with what a maiden or wife would wear than a mistress. At least, that's what Bella assumed.

Mistress.

There was still much about the role she did not know; Edward's explanation having been rather vague. She had considered asking Jessica what she knew of the role but had decided she would prefer to receive those answers directly from Edward.

Dressed in the new gown and with her hair elegantly styled, Bella studied her reflection in the dressing table mirror, her confidence boosted by the image of the fashionable-looking young lady smiling back at her.

"Bella?" Angela approached her side, her tone wary but determined. "Who are ye really? Ye ain't never worked in no inn, though I can't for the life of me think 'ow ye learned to cook like ye do. Yer a _lady_ , ain't ye?"

Fear at the thought of exposure robbed Bella of breath.

"Ye don't have to be afraid," Angela added. "I'm yer friend. I'd never do ought to 'urt ye."

Swallowing hard, Bella weighed the risks of telling her the truth. Being able to confide in someone would be such a relief.

"I am Bella, Bella Brown," she said before admitting. "But I wasn't always."

"Who were ye before?"

"I was Miss Isabella Swan, daughter of Sir Charles Swan, friend to the Duke of Worthington." Bella's lower lip trembled at the declaration she doubted she would ever make again.

"Heavens!" Angela stepped back. "Ye be Lord Hunter's runaway bride. The papers say ye murdered yer own father."

"But I didn't. Lord Hunter made dreadful threats against me, and then he _shot_ Papa even though he was unarmed. Before he died, my father told me to come to Worthington Hall and beg the Duke for protection."

"But ye were too late 'cos His Grace had left for his 'oneymoon." Angela's eyes widened. "And ye found Lord Masen instead, or rather, Lord Masen found ye."

"Precisely."

"But why didn't ye tell Lord Masen who ye are?" Angela asked before her expression transformed to one of alarm. "Ye couldn't! Lord Hunter's a friend of Lord Masen's, and 'e'd 'ave 'anded ye over in a 'eartbeat. The toffs always take care of each other."

Bella's heart sank at Angela's matter-of-fact declaration even though she had reached the same conclusion.

"Ye did the right thing keepin' quiet. But what a mess yer in now. How will ye ever get it sorted?"

"I won't. I _can't_. Not now. I had hoped to stay hidden, working as a servant until His Grace returned when I planned on asking for his help. But now I must remain Bella Brown forever."

"Is there no way to get yer old life back?"

"Not now that Edward and I . . . that we . . ."

Angela's lips pursed. "Bleedin' toffs who can't keep it in their breeches."

Bella smiled ruefully. "In Lord Masen's defence, I could have acted with a little more circumspection. But I'm afraid I let my desire to be with him overwhelm my good sense . . . and my conscience."

Angela surprised Bella by giggling. "I wouldn't judge yerself too 'arshly. I don't think there'd be too many females who could resist Lord Masen once 'e was set on wooin' 'em, regardless of their station. He was awfully determined to 'ave ye, but can ye imagine the fuss there'll be if 'e ever finds out who ye really are?"

Clutching Angela's forearms, Bella gave them a gentle shake.

"He must never know! You must never tell a soul, Angela. My very life depends upon it, not just Edward's good opinion of me."

"I think ye be right, Bella. The nobility don't like to be made fools of. Lord Hunter's not to be trusted, though Lord Masen might surprise ye. He does seem to care for ye."

He adored her, or so he had said, but Bella was not so naïve as to believe his feelings would survive the uncovering of her deception.

Awaiting Edward's arrival, she filled the time after her solitary supper with some sketching. Angela was worried about leaving her alone, but Bella insisted she should take the remainder of the evening off. All the girl had ever known was a life of long hours and hard work, that's when she wasn't being shockingly abused. While there was nothing Bella could do to make up for the pain and indignity Angela had suffered, at least, as her lady's maid, she could make sure her burden was not so heavy.

In truth, the opportunity to indulge in her artistic hobby was welcome, and Bella's pencil fairly flew across the page. She drew better from life than memory but was determined to create an image of Edward's likeness that did him justice.

She tried to draw him seated proudly on his horse just as she had observed him from the work room window on her first day, but she couldn't get the horse's legs quite right. After several attempts, she managed to capture a reasonable likeness of Edward as he had looked, seated across from her at the inn in Worthy, his face aglow with candlelight.

Studying the sketch, Bella pondered the way things had turned out. She would never have allowed things to go so far if her father was still alive or if Lord Carlisle had been in residence when she had first arrived at Worthington Hall. Not that there would have been any opportunity for impropriety if either had been the case. After a formal introduction to Carlisle's son, she would have been quickly dismissed as a virtual nobody. Any attraction Edward felt for her would have been ruthlessly quashed in the face of her unsuitability for anything other than polite discourse over afternoon tea or to make up the numbers for a game of bridge.

Bella's conscience pricked when she realised, despite the dangers she continued to face and the questions she was yet to have answered, a part of her was relieved things had turned out the way they had. She would give anything for her father not to have been killed, but she couldn't bring herself to regret being with Edward despite the shocking nature of their relationship.

What sort of person that made her, she wasn't sure.

With her mind filled with images of the man she had come to love beyond reason and respectability—watching her, holding her, naked and rising over her in her bed—she continued to sketch. Nothing quite so intimate, of course.

Impatient to see him again, she kept glancing to the clock on the mantelpiece. When the hour reached eight o'clock, she sighed. Time was moving slowly despite the enjoyment she received from indulging her passion for drawing.

Deciding to indulge another passion—for fantasy—she drew a picture of Edward and her dancing together in an imaginary ballroom.

A girl could dream.

 **~I~**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**


	18. Promises

**Thank you so much to those of you taking the time to review each chapter. I know it's a lot to ask when I'm posting so often. I do apologise for rarely replying. I'm working on finishing Gone Viral as well as writing the next story in the Hearts of Honour series. I've also just published Return of the Prince (Restoration on FFn), and I'm trying to teach myself how to make promotional book videos which is quite a challenge. If anyone knows of an easy (ish) to use video slide show program, please pm me and let me know. :)**

 **Most of you were as shocked as I was to learn about the Age of Consent laws. This story is set in 1831. It took until 1875 for the age of consent in the UK to be raised from between ten and twelve (it varied over the years) to thirteen. It was only after widespread protest that it was finally raised to 16 in 1885 and laws were passed condemning child prostitution.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 18 - Promises**

At the sound of someone clearing their throat. Bella looked up to see Edward leaning against the doorframe. Despite the way their last encounter had ended, her heart leapt at the sight of him. She stood and smoothed her skirt, hoping he would find her attire pleasing.

His sharply inhaled breath could be heard all the way across the room, and Bella's hand rose to her throat. She was certain Angela wouldn't have divulged her secret, but as he strode towards her, she feared something had alerted him to her identity. Coming to a halt in front of her, he reached for her hand and raised it to his lips.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," he said, and Bella all but sagged with relief. He wasn't angry but taken aback by her appearance . . . and more than a little aroused.

She could tell.

"Why thank you, my lord." She swept a low curtsy the way Mrs Brewer had taught her. "I am so glad you approve."

"Approve? I don't know whether to ravish you right here in the sitting room or go looking for your father to ask permission to court you."

Bella's gaze shot to his face in time to see him grimace.

"I do apologise. That was a tactless thing to say."

"It's all right," she assured him. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. Although if my father _was_ alive, I'm sure he would have welcomed your interest."

Her words were only partly in jest, but they had the desired effect, lightening the mood.

"Hmm, I don't know about that." Edward drew her into his embrace. "He might have been impressed by a marquis coming to court his beautiful daughter, but if he'd got wind of the truly wicked nature of my thoughts, he would have run me off his property."

"I think you may be right," she whispered, the feel of his lips brushing over her skin robbing her of resolve. Temporarily.

"Bella?" He frowned when she pulled out of his embrace and put the table between them.

"You need to stay away from me," she said.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You promised we would talk, and I plan on holding you to it. You are a man of your word, are you not?"

Her teasing tone faltered, and his expression sobered.

"Of course, I am. I promised I would take care of you, and despite this morning's evidence to the contrary, I plan on keeping that and every other promise I make you." Coming around to her side of the table, he reached for her, and she went willingly, unable to resist him a second time. "I am so sorry for what happened in my study, Bella. I assure you, nothing like that will ever occur again. You have my word."

"And the other things you said this morning? Did you mean them also?"

An arresting smile curved his lips. "You wouldn't be referring to my declaration by any chance?"

Bella's blushing cheeks answered for her.

"I meant what I said. I adore you." He punctuated his words with soft kisses before giving a slight shake of his head. "But you are right. We need to talk."

Relieved they were in agreement, she walked with him towards the long upholstered couch near the fire. But before they reached it, he spotted the drawings she had left scattered across the table.

"Did you draw these?" he asked, and Bella winced, dismayed she had not thought to pack the pictures away when he had first appeared. She didn't think she had drawn anything incriminating, as the inspiration for her last picture was mostly based in fantasy. It wasn't as if she had ever danced at a ball. Releasing the breath she was holding, she decided it wasn't so strange for a girl of her supposed station to be familiar with the inside of a ballroom. She had spent enough time dusting the one here at Worthington Hall to have an image of it engraved in her brain.

"These are very good." Edward pulled her to stand in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he studied the sketches. "Damnation, girl, will you never cease to surprise me? Just how many hidden talents do you possess?"

"You weren't supposed to see them," she whispered, embarrassed.

"Why ever not? You have real talent, Bella. With proper tutoring, who knows what you could achieve?"

Not a great deal more, according to Bella's art tutor who had concluded she had reached the peak of her ability some time back, but she could hardly say so.

"I'm not that good." She pointed out the flaws in the picture she had drawn of him seated upon his horse while using the distraction to hide the one of her father.

"Sabre does look a little wobbly, but I think you have caught my likeness quite well, especially in this one."

He pointed to Bella's favourite, the one of him at the inn.

"I would very much like a picture of you," he added. "Would you draw me a self-portrait?"

"If you like. I could pose for it in the mirror, as I do much better with a model. Is there any chance you'd pose for me sometime?"

"With pleasure. Clothed or nude?"

"Edward." Bella swatted his arm, though the idea was intriguing.

He turned her to face him, his smile fading.

"What is it?" she asked.

Not answering straight away, he led her to the couch where they sat facing one another . . . for a change.

"Bella." He took a deep breath before continuing. "If I had my way, I would parade you proudly before all of London. I would take you dancing at Almack's and rent the flashiest, most prominent booth at Vauxhall Gardens where we'd enjoy the light show with the _ton_ watching on. Every man in attendance—from pauper to prince—would envy my good fortune."

"But you can't do that," Bella said, both flattered and alarmed by his words. If anyone recognised her, the beautiful fantasy he described would be destroyed.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. We shall have to be discreet, but please, don't ever think it is because I'm ashamed of you. Most men of my rank don't need to hide their mistresses, but I can't afford the scandal. Besides . . ." He eyed her ruefully. "I have no intention of letting the rakes of the _ton_ discover what an amazing prize I have in my possession and try to win you from me."

"What do you mean 'possession' and how could they 'win me'?"

"Not the way you are thinking. I would never gamble with your future."

Bella's racing heart slowed to a more normal cadence. Glancing down, she noticed an abrasion on the back of the knuckles of his right hand, proof of the veracity of his words.

"Thank you for protecting me against Lord Edgeley today and for promising to keep me safe in future. But there are so many things of which I have no understanding." She raised her head to meet his gaze. "I need you to explain them to me."

"Ask me anything."

Impulsively, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. It was the first time she had initiated a display of affection between them, and his mouth curved in response. Refusing to become distracted, despite how a simple smile could light up his face, Bella took him up on his offer.

"Edward, you must promise me, on your word of honour as a gentleman, no matter what happens between us in the future—if you tire of me or I anger you—you will never send me to a brothel. I shall remain in service the rest of my days if necessary, but please, don't ever force me to work in one of those places."

Edward paled. "You think I would do that to you?"

"There are almost no other options for a girl in my position if she loses her place of employment. You might believe reputation is not an issue for one of my class, but you are wrong. Once a girl is deemed a whore, there's no going back to respectability."

He swore, the harsh expletive causing Bella to flinch. She had thought herself immune to bad language, but some words still held the power to shock.

"I am so sorry, Bella. I have been a fool. To think you have had all afternoon to worry about such things." He rubbed her arms as he spoke. "Do you not understand what it is I have offered you? What it means to be the mistress to a man of my station?"

"You said we would spend time together and that you would protect any children we might have. But I don't understand the how of it. What will I do when we leave here? Will I work as a maid or kitchen hand in your house in the city? I am more than willing to earn my keep. In fact, I think I would prefer it. I'm not sure how well I would cope if I were required to stay sequestered in my room all day."

"You really don't understand, do you?" He shook his head. "Bella, you are to have your own home. My agents will start searching for a suitable property as soon as they receive the directives I've sent. I have asked them to find a good-sized house with a pleasant outlook not far from one of the main parks. You will have your own staff, a fine carriage and stable of horses, and a very generous allowance. You didn't realise any of this?"

"How could I?" She huffed. "I had no idea gentlemen even kept mistresses let alone what they did for them. If I'm to have my own home, where will you be?"

"With you, of course. I'm not planning on setting you up in Town and then ignoring you, if that's what you are worried about. I would move you in with me to Cullen House if I could, but there's the slight matter of discretion I mentioned."

"Cullen House?"

"My father's London home. It's where I usually stay when I'm visiting the city. The damned pile is big enough to house a dozen families and their staff, but not exactly suitable for the two of us."

"No, of course not," she murmured.

"I can't wait to show you my country seat. It's being extensively renovated, and the gardens are a delight."

His enthusiasm was contagious, but Bella's smile faded at his next words.

"You won't be able to remain living there with me indefinitely, of course, but I shall find a place for you nearby when it becomes an issue."

Bella imagined he was referring to when he married, as she gathered even a philandering lord wouldn't go so far as to keep wife and mistress under the same roof. Putting the distressing thought aside, she focused on issues closer to hand.

"Will I have to spend time with any of your friends?"

"I'm afraid not. As I have said, I would love to show you off to all of London, but . . ."

"No! That's a good thing." She rushed to assure him. "I would prefer not to spend time with other lords or members of the nobility at all."

"Are you worried they may be disrespectful? Despite what happened this morning, I can assure you, Bella, I won't brook that sort of treatment of you in future."

"But how would you stop them from saying things and attempting to take liberties?" While her concerns were real, they masked her ultimate fear of having her true identity revealed.

Edward sighed. "I will do my utmost to protect you, Bella. Unfortunately, keeping you hidden may be the price we have to pay to guarantee your safety and safeguard my political responsibilities. But there are many places I can still take you and people we can mix with amongst the _demimonde_. You won't be bored or lonely, sweetheart, I shall make sure of it."

"What exactly _is_ the _demimonde_?"

"A rather unique grouping of individuals." Edward chuckled wryly. "Many are hedonists, hell bent on a life of pleasure and excess. But there are others—writers, poets, thespians—creative and talented sorts who would welcome you amongst their number. I think you will find them interesting, and I know they'll adore you . . ."

"But?" She prompted when he hesitated.

"I fear your beauty and wit will set you apart even amongst such an elite group. You could become a highly sought-after courtesan if that were your preference." He eyed her warily.

"But I only want you, Edward." Bella clutched his arm. She had not heard the term before, but believed she knew enough to infer its meaning.

"As I only want you."

He lifted her onto his lap, and she smiled to be back in the place that was fast becoming a favourite of hers also. The warmth and security of his embrace tempted her to put her cares aside, but she could not ignore what he had said earlier.

"The issues we'll face. You were speaking of when you will be required to take a wife?"

"Let's not worry about that, shall we?" Edward grimaced. "I would rather we enjoyed our time together unencumbered with burdens we are not yet required to bear."

Bella nodded, unable to hide her despondency. It pained her to know the vast majority of gentleman compromised the values they espoused, readily breaking the vows of fidelity they made to their brides. Honour, something she had been raised to believe was a straightforward and easily recognised virtue, seemed a rather fluid commodity in the world of the upper _ton_.

"Is there a problem?" he asked after she had remained silent for a while.

"No, I'm fine." Her heart broke a little knowing their time together must come to an end, one way or another. She was tempted by the future he offered—a house of her own, financial security, a place in the world . . . of sorts—but her conscience would never allow her to continue as his mistress once he was wed to another. Not that she would be able to stay with Edward until then.

Despite his assertion he would be able to keep her existence hidden, she didn't think it realistic. Bella's reputation might have already been damaged by Lord Hunter's baseless accusations, but surely there must be some doubt in society's mind about her guilt. If her current situation and circumstances were revealed, the shame she would bring on her father's name was incalculable. Not to mention the risk she faced of ending up imprisoned—or worse _—_ for a crime she had not committed _._

Sighing, she faced the painful reality she could no longer avoid. At some point, she would have to leave Edward and disappear altogether. For now, she was determined to make the most of every minute she had with the man she would love forever, whether they were together or apart.

"Do you have any more questions?" Edward asked.

Her fingers traced idle patterns on his silk shirt while she contemplated the many things she still wanted to learn. The social reform Edward and his father were working towards were of particular interest, especially any changes that would protect vulnerable young women.

Bella was determined to do whatever she could to see that Angela was kept safe from now on. It would be wonderful to have her continue as her lady's maid after she left Worthington Hall, but only if Angela was interested. She had no intention of forcing her to a life not of her choosing. The maid had feelings for Ben—a miracle in Bella's mind considering all she had suffered—but she didn't know if he would be able to accompany them.

Then there was Seth. He worked for Edward, now, and she hoped to have a positive influence in the life of her young friend, as much as was possible now that she was a mistress. The boy was bright, and she would love to see him receive a proper education.

"Bella?"

At Edward's prompting, she kissed his lips. Her bold action pleased him if his groan and the way he tightened his hold upon her was any indication.

"Yes, I have more questions and some favours to ask," she said when she broke away.

"Favours? Anything, sweetheart, anything at all."

Ducking her head, Bella smiled. She would be holding him to his word. Despite her lack of experience, she had enough feminine wiles—as she vaguely remembered her mother calling them—to know that waiting until after they had been intimate might be the better time to gain the concessions she wanted for Angela and Seth.

"It can wait," she whispered huskily. "There'll be time to talk . . . after."

Edward stood and strode with her in his arms towards the bedroom, the perfect answer for now.

 **~I~**

 **Bella is getting answers and definitely developing some 'wiles'. My heart aches for her considering the bleakness of the future she foresees for herself. I know that, for some of you, Edward's behaviour is irredeemable, but I do think his heart is truly engaged. He is just operating from within a world view that is almost alien to our way of thinking. Thank heavens some things have changed for the better!**

 **xx Elise**


	19. Oh My

**Quite a few readers have asked me how long this story is. Believe it or not, it has 70 chapters! Seriously, I have no idea what I or my editor was thinking when we split it up that way for publishing. It was also split into two separate books (not a great idea), so short chapters wasn't the worst idea we came up with. In length, the entire story is 165K words, so long but not as long as many fan fiction stories.**

 **This chapter is light on plot (there is a smidgen here and there) and heavy on steam . . . well, smut if I'm honest, but I'm not a huge fan of the word. All I can say is I must have been channeling my teenage-bride honeymooning self when I wrote it, as the mid-fifties version of me finds it all a bit exhausting!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 19 -** **Oh . . . My . . .**

Halting in the middle of the bedroom, Edward let Bella slide down his body until her feet touched the floor.

"Don't ever leave me," he said roughly, and her gaze shot to his face. It was as if he had intuited her thoughts.

"Bella?" He frowned when she didn't respond. "Now that I have found you, I could never let you go. Living without you would be untenable."

"For me, too." She lifted up on tiptoes, kissing him tenderly in place of the commitment she could not give. Wanting to distract him, and eager to feel his skin beneath her fingers, she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

He hissed, watching her slip them free one by one before he pulled the shirt over his head to toss it aside.

Bella reached for him, but he turned her in his arms to face the dressing table, their images reflected in the mirror.

"You are utterly adorable." He leaned down to kiss the curve of her shoulder. "My heart nearly stopped when I saw you in this dress. For a moment, I thought I might have accidentally deflowered a society maiden, not a delectable girl who can only benefit from our alliance."

Bella flinched at how close he had come to the truth.

"Don't worry. I will take care of you. I promise."

After releasing the buttons that ran down the back of her gown, Edward let it fall from her shoulders to balloon around her feet. With her hair piled high and dressed in a lace-trimmed chemise— _sans_ any form of corsetry, which, of course, added credence to his belief she was of common heritage—she felt both vulnerable and desirable.

"Bella."

He cupped her bare breasts, and she moaned.

"You like it when I do that."

His gaze met hers in the mirror, and Bella nodded, her hands rising to cover his. When he turned her in his arms, she rose up on tiptoe, eager for his kiss. She couldn't get enough of his taste, his warmth, the feel of his hands cupping her bottom and pulling her against him.

"You are so lovely." He breathed the words against her lips, and she angled her head, so he could kiss the curve of her neck, another favourite place. When her hands trailed a path down his taut belly to the waistband of his breeches, he lifted his head to watch. But when her fingers went to work on the buttons, he stilled her hands.

"You don't want me to touch you?" She looked up at him uncertainly.

"I would love for you to touch me, but let's leave that for a little later, shall we?"

"Why?" Bella pouted. "I want to please you."

"You do please me, immensely, but I have plans for tonight and a promise to fulfil."

"What promise?"

She stroked her fingers back up his belly, and a tremor ran through him.

"The one I made to kiss every single square inch of your body."

Rendered speechless at the idea, Bella let him guide her to the bed where Edward removed the remainder of her clothing, his fingers caressing her skin as it was bared to him.

"Let it down for me?" he whispered, twining a curl of red hair around his fingers.

Reaching to remove the clips that held it in place, her breasts lifted high as her hair tumbled past her shoulders.

Groaning, Edward tugged her close for a brief embrace before helping her onto the bed. Lying naked before him, Bella refused to succumb to shyness and cover herself. The hunger she saw in his eyes as his gaze roamed her body drew a whimper from her lips, one she repeated when he removed the rest of his clothing.

"Don't be nervous," he said, and she shook her head in denial, studying him intently.

"Like what you see?" he asked, a surprising hint of insecurity in his tone.

"Oh, yes." She breathed the words on a sigh, bringing a smile to his face. "But I want to touch you."

"Who am I to deny you?"

He lay beside her on the bed, guiding her hand to towards him. Intrigued by the feel of the velvet soft skin that covered his steel hard member, she carefully encircled it with her fingers.

"It's not always so prominent, is it?"

He chuckled. "It's not supposed to be, but whenever you are nearby it becomes problematic. I'm surprised you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I have, but I thought it was your pistol."

Edward's laughter turned to a moan when she stroked him, and she went to snatch her hand away.

"Don't." He covered her hand with his, holding it firmly in place.

"Did I do it wrong?"

"Quite the contrary," he said, guiding her up and down his length in sure, firm strokes. Removing his hand, he allowed her the freedom to tentatively, and then more boldly, explore his heated flesh.

"But I think that had better be enough for now," he added hoarsely after a few moments had passed.

"Why?" she said, reluctantly removing her hand.

"Because I'm supposed to be the one pleasuring you at this juncture, not the other way around."

"Oh? I wasn't aware there were specific rules of conduct pertaining to the art of lovemaking."

Her teasing tone drew a bark of laughter from his lips.

"Minx." He smiled before ordering, "Now, lay still."

"Aye, aye, sir. Anything ye say, sir." She mock saluted.

"I'm going to make you pay for your insubordination." He ran a hand over her breasts and across her belly. "All. Night. Long."

Bella's breath hitched. Was such a thing even possible?

Edward moved further down the bed. She watched warily as he lifted one of her feet into his hands, trailing his fingers along the slender lines before caressing it with his lips. Her arches were ticklish, knowledge she feared he stored away to use against her on another occasion from the impish look he sent her way. But her toes, she discovered, were another matter altogether. Unexpectedly sensitive, she couldn't help but moan when he nibbled on them with his teeth and lips.

"Please, stop," she whispered before begging, "No, don't stop."

Edward chuckled, dragging his tongue slowly along her instep before kissing and caressing his way along the length of her leg.

"Every part of you is beautiful," he whispered huskily. "Your feet. Your calves. Your knees. Your thighs. And as for my current destination . . ."

Shockingly, he leaned close to the juncture of her thighs. Bella's eyes widened in alarm, but he forestalled her protest by moving back down the bed and picking up her other foot, starting the sweet torture all over again. This time, when he reached the top of her leg, he kissed and caressed all the way to the juncture of her thighs. She stared, stunned, when he proceeded to nuzzle the soft curls.

"Edward, no." She sat up, pushing at his shoulders ineffectually.

"It's all right, sweetheart. I just want to taste you."

"But . . . but . . .." Her body arched when he brought his fingers to play and let them slide along her sex. Entering her with first one digit and then another, he stroked her rhythmically until she lay back upon the bed, overcome with sensation.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" He blew against the swollen nub he had revealed and teased with his thumb even as his fingers continued to move inside her.

Taking her incoherent murmurs as assent, he swiped his tongue along the delicate folds.

Bella's body clenched tightly around his fingers, and he repeated the action of his tongue.

"I can't. You mustn't. It's too much."

"I'll stop if you want me to." He looked up to meet her passion-clouded gaze. "But I would like to keep going."

"Why?"

"Because I enjoy bringing you pleasure. It rebounds on me, increasing the anticipation tenfold."

"Oh." Bella sighed and let her head drop back onto the pillow. "Very well then. If you must."

With a growl, he drew her swollen nub into his mouth. While suckling it gently with his lips and tongue, his fingers continued to stroke her until she felt the delightful pulses low in her belly that predicted she was near her peak. Frustratingly, Edward slowed the pace, her indignant mews bringing a smile to his lips.

He really did seem to enjoy doing this extraordinary thing, but when he repeatedly brought her to the peak only to deny her the completion her body demanded, Bella cried out his name. Reaching to tangle her hands in his hair, she held him firmly in place.

If he was going to torture her in such a fashion, then it was only fair he finished the task.

Humming against her extremely sensitised flesh, his fingers moved in time with the strokes of his tongue. Bella whimpered, as she crested the peak. Arching beneath him, her cries broadcast the intensity of her pleasure, while he milked every last shuddering contraction of bliss. When she lay back, utterly replete, he traversed the length of her body. Kissing, caressing, tasting, and arousing along the way, his rigid member brushed against her.

Bella couldn't quite believe what he had done, or that she had allowed it. But, oh my, it had been wonderful.

Before meeting Edward, she had been completely unaware this sensual, pleasurable, intimate world even existed. It saddened her to think if she had only ever received the instruction given to young ladies of quality, she would probably _never_ have known.

 _"A well-bred young lady must submit to her husband when he visits her bedchamber. If he is a true gentleman, this will occur no more than once or twice a week during the first months of marriage and only until she becomes with child. She must remain still and silent, enduring the indignity and discomfort with stoicism. She must do nothing to encourage his behaviour in the hopes once she has provided the requisite heir and a spare, her husband will do the gentlemanly thing and cease from demanding his marital rights."_

Lady Mallory had been quite specific in her advice, which hadn't altered the fact Bella had been left with absolutely no idea about what she was speaking. Now, of course, she did. It pained her to think she could have gone to her marriage bed intent on heeding such instruction, thereby sabotaging any chance of a pleasant or fulfilling experience. Worse was the knowledge gentlemen apparently required such subservience and lack of responsiveness in their wives. Now that she understood Lady Mallory's advice, other snippets surfaced in her memory, one pronouncement making a dreadful sort of sense.

 _"If a young lady fails in her comportment and expresses enjoyment in the fulfilment of her duty, she will be viewed with disdain by her husband for demonstrating behaviour of a base manner, unbecoming of a lady."_

No wonder Edward thought she must be of common blood if the women of the so-called upper classes were required to behave like blocks of ice, enduring their husband's attention in repulsed silence until the ordeal was over. Considering the pleasure and enjoyment that was possible between willing partners, it was no surprise it had become common practice for gentlemen to dishonour their marriage vows and find some other female—besides their unresponsive wives—to share their beds. The entire practice was both a travesty and a recipe for disaster when it came to promoting marital harmony.

Putting off these depressing thoughts, Bella refocused on Edward's expert ministrations. In stark contrast to their intended purpose, the resurfacing of these memories made her determined to express her enjoyment and love for him to the utmost. If that meant she was deemed "common and base" in the eyes of society, so be it. The more she learned of the world she had been born into, the less she wanted to be a part of it, anyway.

"Where have you gone, my darling?" Edward asked, as they lay facing one another.

"I'm right here." She snuggled against him, enjoying the feel of his warm, muscular, and very aroused body aligned with her own. "I was just thinking how wonderful it is to be with you in this way."

"My sentiments exactly."

Taking the initiative, she rolled onto her back, drawing him with her. "I want you inside me, Edward," she said, making her wishes perfectly clear.

Groaning, he reached between them, guiding his erection to her entrance and then slowly pushing forward.

"Are you well?"

"Perfectly," she whispered, losing herself in the depths of Edward's midnight blue eyes. "I want you in every way."

Unable to promise forever, Bella was determined to give him all of her for as long as she could.

She cried out as his body moved over her, filling her again and again. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, just as he had wrapped himself around her heart, Bella welcomed him inside her, flexing her hips to meet his powerful thrusts.

"God, yes." He moved faster, harder.

Holding his weight on his arms so as not to crush her, he captured her lips. His touch, his scent, the sheer force of his masculinity caused pleasure to fire along her veins, take up residence in her quivering muscles, and shimmer over her skin. While revelling in the journey, she looked forward with sweet expectation to reaching the destination he had introduced her to for the first time only the night before.

Three times now Edward had gifted her with an experience of sublime pleasure. While her love for him had transformed her heart, the bliss she had discovered in his lovemaking had changed the way she viewed her body

Bella was an innocent girl no longer, for she had become a woman in Edward's arms.

Before long, her inner muscles contracted around him as ecstasy overwhelmed her once more. His cry of completion was like music to her ears, or it would have been if it did not herald his sudden withdrawal. Refusing to be disappointed, she held him close as he shuddered in her arms. When their hearts slowed, and breaths no longer came in pants, Edward rolled them over, so Bella lay on top of him.

"I love you," she whispered, looking down into his eyes. "I love you, and I always will."

"As I love you," he said, stunning her with his admission. "I never expected to say the words, certainly never expected to mean them, but I love you, Bella, with all my heart."

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks.

"Ah, sweetheart." Smiling softly Edward wiped them away. "Don't cry. We're going to be so happy together, I promise. I will love you forever."

"Forever." She echoed.

Cupping his face with her hands, she imbued her kiss with all the emotion she felt in her heart.

~I~

When Bella awoke, the room was cloaked in darkness, and she tensed.

" _Hush_." Edward crooned the word close to her ear, and she relaxed against him.

He was wrapped around her from behind, his naked chest pressed to her back with their legs nestled together. With one arm across her stomach, he held her against him, his hand gently cupping her breast.

"I'm here," he whispered.

She snuggled into his intimate embrace. "I'm so very glad you are."

"Oh? And why would that be?"

"Because I thought we could talk?"

"More talk?" He rocked his hips against hers, his perpetually aroused member prodding against her bottom.

"You did say we could talk _after_."

"After implies something is over or finished." Edward trailed his hand across her belly on a determined journey to the rather damp curls at the apex of her thighs. "And, my lovely girl, I can assure you, I am far from finished."

"You aren't?"

Bella was finding it increasingly difficult to speak with his fingers doing wicked, intimate things to her body. Their positions didn't seem conducive for what he clearly had in mind, but when she tried to turn to face him, he held her in place.

Puzzled and a little wary, she tensed when he lifted her leg.

"It's all right. You can trust me." He slowly entered her from behind, rocking his hips and pushing inside a little further with each movement, until he was all the way inside her again.

There seemed no end to the possibilities when it came to this strange, new world of physical intimacy. Or to their appetite for one another.

"Oh, my," she whispered, and then giggled, surprising them both.

"You find this funny?"

"No, it's just, you seem to have a detrimental effect on my vocabulary." Arching backwards, she moved her body in rhythm to his slow, gentle thrusts.

"You have a very beneficial effect on me." Edward's words hummed against her shoulder. "Every. Single. Aspect."

"But we will get to talk some more later?"

She was determined to gain his assurance before she was swept away by the power and passion of his lovemaking once more.

"You have my word." He groaned. "But most definitely _later_."

 **~I~**

 **I'm tossing up posting the next chapter, as this one was so light on plot. Let me know if you'd like another chapter before tomorrow, and I'll post one when I wake up (it's nighttime here for me in West Australia).**

 **Thanks again so much for your support of my stories.**

 **xx Elise**


	20. Hopes

**Good morning! This would have been up sooner, but I slept in. I'd say sorry, but hey, sleep ins are to be treasured in my experience . . . and something I have in common with Bella from this chapter. ;)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 20 - Hopes**

Upon opening her eyes, Bella blinked at the sight of pale spring sunlight streaming across her pillow. Stiff, sore, but not at all sorry for herself, she sat up, clutching the sheet to her breasts.

"Bella?" Angela's softly spoken query drew her attention, and she looked up to see her friend standing by the bed. "Sorry to wake ye. But it's almost noon, and his lordship said 'e'd be coming to take ye for a walk in the gardens after lunch."

Bella's eyes widened. "Good heavens. I can't believe I slept so late."

"I can," Angela said wryly. "If the state of the room and yer 'air is anything to go by, I'd say ye 'ad quite a night."

Her expression sheepish, Bella was relieved to see Angela smile at her admission. But then the girl's smile faded.

"Lord Masen treats ye well?"

"He certainly does." Bella blushed.

"I'm glad for ye." Angela nodded decisively. "He _is_ the Duke's son, so I figured 'im for one of the better 'uns."

Bella didn't dispute Angela's assessment, though she worried her relationship with Edward might be causing unpleasant memories to surface in the girl's mind.

"Do you think you will ever be able to move past what happened to you? To find love one day?"

"Love ain't the problem," Angela said, her dreamy look giving way to a grimace. "It's what comes later I ain't so sure about."

Bella nodded unable to imagine being intimate with a man after having been through an ordeal of the magnitude the girl had suffered. She hoped for Angela's sake being with a loving and gentle partner of her choosing might make a difference one day.

"You and Ben?" she asked, and it was Angela's turn to blush.

"Aye. He says 'e loves me, and 'e'll wait for as long as it takes. I do like his kisses, so maybe one day." She shrugged uncertainly.

"I hope it works out for you both," Bella said, not wanting to overstep the mark.

"Oh, aye, so do I, Miss."

"What's this 'Miss' business?"

Angela took it a step further and dropped a curtsy.

"If I'm to be yer lady's maid—and 'specially considerin' yer a real lady and not just pretendin' to be one—I think it be best if I started playin' me part right."

Bella winced. "That is very kind of you, Angela, but do you think you could wait until we're no longer at Worthington Hall to address me so?"

"What do ye mean no longer at Worthington Hall?"

Bella recalled she had yet to ask the girl if she would like to accompany her to London. A part of her was uncertain if she should still do so, as the more knowledgeable she became regarding her new station, the more precarious it appeared.

"Bella?"

"How about we continue this discussion while I bathe and dress?"

At Bella's suggestion, Angela hurried to bring her a robe. Once she was soaking in a tub filled with hot water and bath salts, she told her about Edward's plans.

"I shall ask Lord Masen if Ben can come also, if it's what you both want. He said I am to have my own horses and carriage, so I shall need a groom. Do you think Ben would be interested?"

"Aye, I'm sure of it. He thinks Lord Masen is brilliant when it comes to 'orses, and 'e'd jump at the chance to work for 'im." Angela ducked her head "And to be with me."

Taking a deep breath, Bella broached the less palatable aspect to the situation.

"Before you make your decision, you need to keep in mind you'd be in service to a gentleman's _mistress_. Not quite as respectable as working in the household of a Duke, I'm afraid."

"It don't bother me none." Angela shrugged, and Bella smiled her gratitude.

After a light luncheon Stephens delivered on a silver tray, she awaited Edward's arrival. With her hair freshly coiffed and dressed in another new gown, she felt quietly confident in her appearance. It wasn't something she had worried about overly in the past, but considering her current circumstance, she needed every advantage she could get.

The dress she had chosen for her outing was made from a light green fabric that brought out the colour of her eyes. Seeing her reflection in the mirror stirred up memories of home, and she found herself wondering how Jacob and Leah and the rest of the staff were faring. It would be nice to think their neighbours would have defended her against Lord Hunter's scandalous accusations, but somehow, she doubted it.

The weight of her circumstances bore down upon Bella's shoulders. The longer she remained with Edward, the greater the risk of her identity becoming known. It was a pity she couldn't trust him with her secret, but it was too late to tell him the truth now.

Or maybe not.

Allowing a tentative hope to burgeon in her heart, Bella shooed Angela aside when the knock came, eager to greet Edward herself. But when she opened the door, all she could see was a staggering assortment of spring and hothouse blooms gathered in a large array.

"Edward?"

The bouquet lowered to reveal his smiling face.

After curtsying in response to his formal bow, Bella thanked him for the enormous bouquet and handed it to Angela. He'd said he would not be bringing her any flowers, and she couldn't help feeling pleased he had changed his mind.

"I trust you slept well?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you. I slept very well." She ducked her head at the memory of what had preceded her rest. He raised her fingers to his lips, a courtly gesture. At least, it would have been if he had immediately let go. Instead, he used it to pull her into his embrace, capturing her lips for a kiss. When he finally released her mouth, his eyes had darkened, but Bella forestalled any diversions.

"You are taking me for a walk?" she asked, albeit a little breathlessly.

"It's overcast, but the head gardener has assured me if we keep our eyes peeled we may catch a glimpse of the sun."

She smiled, pleased at the possibility. Other than her trip to the village on market day, she had barely been outside Worthington Hall since her arrival.

"And we can talk?"

"Yes, my darling, we can talk."

After she donned a new pelisse and bonnet, Edward escorted her down the sweeping central stairway and out through the front doors to the gardens. To Bella's relief, they didn't come across any of his family members or guests, though she averted her gaze when they passed members of staff. If anyone was looking at her with censure, she would rather not know.

The gardens were beautiful, and they strolled along the pathways for a while before she raised the first of a number of issues. Within a short period of time, she had received Edward's agreement Angela and Ben could accompany her when they left Worthington Hall. Her hope was Edward would make sure they were taken care of if—no, _when—_ she was required to flee.

He didn't deny Seth was a bright young lad, but he seemed surprised when she suggested the boy be granted the opportunity to further his education.

"I think he's happy working in the stables, but I'll consider it, if you think it's warranted."

Bella smiled broadly as he led her to a bench in a vine-covered gazebo overlooking the lake.

"While I admire your concern for others, I'm curious to know if there is anything you would ask for yourself?"

Sensing her opportunity, Bella felt a fluttering in her stomach, nervousness instead of desire, for a change.

"Not _exactly_."

"But there is something?"

Taking a deep breath, she summoned the courage to broach the subject teasing her with the possibility for a very different future than the one Edward had mapped out.

"What if . . ." She swallowed hard. "What if I wasn't a commoner? What if I was a member of society, like you, though not as highly ranked. Say the daughter of a retired officer or maybe a country squire? I wouldn't be a lady, per se, but as a member of the gentry, could we be together?"

"By together, I assume you mean marriage?"

Bella doubted the answer would be yes but held her breath awaiting his response.

"Ah, sweetheart." He enfolded her in his arms. "I know this is difficult for you, but there really is no other way. Please don't misunderstand." He pulled back to meet her gaze. "If anyone could pull off such a ruse, it would be you. Your father and governess did a remarkable job preparing you for entry into a higher level of society than the one to which you were born. With the right background story and someone willing to provide an introduction, you could waltz into any ballroom in London and have the society matrons eating out of your hand. Not to mention every wet-behind-the-ears young buck wanting to fill your dance card, and all the damned rakes wanting to . . . well, never mind. But your beauty and grace would only get you so far. The best you could hope for would be marriage to a very minor member of society, possibly the youngest son of a lord if he was particularly determined. Without a dowry and prominent family backing, even that would be doubtful."

"But not a marquis?" Bella added softly. "Not even if my position was legitimate and not a deception?"

Shaking his head, Edward ran his fingers gently down her cheek.

"I am no ordinary marquis, I'm afraid. As a descendant of George, the Second, I am subject to the Marriage Act and must gain the approval of the crown before I marry."

"But you are not a prince, are you?" Bella puzzled.

"No, thank God. My great grandmother was supposed to wed a Prussian prince, but the negotiations dragged on for years, and she eventually settled for a duke. Her daughter, my grandmother, found herself in a similar position, and it was thought she would never wed. Charles the Third enjoyed toying with his royal cousins, refusing their choices for matrimony. But he surprised everyone by taking pity on my grandmother, approving her marriage to my grandfather, the Duke of Worthington, despite his less than aristocratic bloodlines. Consequently, Emmett, Rebecca, and I are unencumbered with a royal title.

"Nevertheless, my future wife—the daughter of a duke or an earl at the very least—must have a lineage that is above reproach and easily verifiable. My father has plans for me to make a politically advantageous alliance one day _if_ he can gain the new King's approval."

His voice and expression bleak, Edward stared over the lake as he made his pronouncement.

Bella's heart ached at the loveless future he described for them both.

"What would happen if you were to marry a woman of your own choosing?"

"After I have turned twenty-five, if my petition is rejected by the King, I can wait a year and bring it before the Privy Council. If they approve, along with both houses of Parliament, I may marry as I choose."

His bleak expression let her know what he thought of his chances.

"Otherwise, I would lose everything, be stripped of my titles and inheritance, and have to flee the country as I would be committing a criminal offence. The marriage would not be recognised by the church, and my children would be deemed illegitimate."

"Good Lord," Bella whispered, stunned. She had thought the chances of them being able to marry were slight, not nonexistent.

"Darling, it's no great tragedy. Even if I could marry you, I wouldn't want to."

Bella flinched and went to pull away from his side.

"Let me explain." He caught hold of her around her middle. "I would rather have you as my mistress than my wife any day. It's better this way."

"How can you say that?" Bella stared at him in bewilderment before recalling his comments about ladies of the _ton_ , an opinion he reiterated.

"Because wives are more concerned about their position in society than showing affection to their husbands."

"But I wouldn't be cold and unfeeling. If you were married to me, I would love you as I do now, in every way and with all my heart."

Edward closed his eyes, and for a moment she allowed herself to hope he was imagining the life they could share together, not having to hide their relationship and their children growing up to take their rightful place in society as his legitimate heirs.

Before she remembered it wasn't possible.

"Bella." He met her gaze. "Just when you have me doubting your heritage, you say something like that. Sweet but incredibly naïve."

"Don't mock me, Edward. I have seen happy marriages before, where there is both love and mutual respect."

"Amongst the lower classes maybe, but there is no place for sentimentality amongst the _ton_. I wouldn't trade what we have for the world."

"And certainly not for the respectability of marriage."

"Not when marriage would ruin everything." He shrugged, and the tiny seed of hope she had been holding on to in her heart shrivelled and died.

In response to her disconsolate air, Edward reacted predictably and lifted her onto his lap.

"Don't be sad. The love we share is priceless, and I'll do anything to protect it—to protect _you—_ and for us to be together."

 _Anything but marry me_ , she thought but did not pull away from his embrace.

He kissed her softly at first, before the insistent pressure of his lips urged her to give him the access he desired. She opened to him, and his tongue delved inside her mouth, arousing her regardless of the state of her emotions and hopes.

No matter how disappointed Bella was by his words, one thing was apparent. She could not resist him.

 **~I~**

 **I'll see you all tonight (for me).** **I'm always amazed to discover where my lovely readers are from.** **For something fun, would you like to tell me where you are from in our big, beautiful world and maybe something unique or notable about your home town or area? To start us off, I'm from Perth in Western Australia. Sadly (as I love the beach and snorkeling or body-boarding when my silly body will allow) we are becoming known as the 'shark attack' capitol of the world. Feel free to do this in either a review or PM. I'm honestly not trying to get more reviews for this story. It has over 12000 in it's original posting (I can't bring myself to delete them). I'm just asking as I'd like to know. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **PS: I've had quite a few readers ask if there is any way I can fix the chapter headings so they line up again with the chapter numbers from the story. (I messed it up when I posted two chapters in one go a couple of times.) I've worked out a way, but it would mean deleting and then reposting the last six chapters - converting them to eight instead. You'd all get a flurry of notifications while I sorted it out, but then things would line up again. Let me know if that's what you'd prefer.**


	21. Introductions

**It was so lovely hearing where everyone is from! I spent ages googling lots of different locations that I would love to visit one day. It's unlikely to happen, but it is nice to dream.**

 **I managed a few replies, but I ran out of time to speak to everyone individually, I'm afraid. Instead, here is a list of our many locations. From the U.S. we have readers from Buffaloy - NY, Central California, Portland - Oregon, Central and South Florida, Minnesota (where they just had 21 inches of snow!), Las Vegas, San Diego, LA - Central, Tinseltown and Malibu, Boston, Cleveland, St Louis, Chicago, New Mexico, New Jersey, Jersey Shore, Sao Paulo, Central Illinois, Pontiac - Michigan, Atlanta, Laguna Beach, Jacksonville (yay for another Twilight location), Orlando, Ohio, Brawley - California, Tupelo - Mississippi, and Nashville. We also have readers from Toronto in Canada, Santiago in Chile, Johannesburg in South Africa, Queensland in Australia, as well as a reader from Nigeria who is now living in London, not to mention a reader whose family are from Iraq, Syria and Saudi Arabia. Quite the multi-cultural bunch!**

 **I've corrected the chapter numbers by combining the short chapters from back at Ch 15 and Ch 16 and changing the numbers of the ones that follow.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 21 - Introductions**

The following days passed blissfully, as long as Bella kept her mind off thoughts of both the future and the past. It was not as difficult to do as she expected, since living in the present with Edward was preferable to entertaining her many fears and worries. His words had hurt her, though not as much as they might have if her expectations had been fully developed. The hopes he had unwittingly crushed had been tentative at best . . . and it was not as if he had any choice in the matter.

She was taking a risk agreeing to accompany him to London, but it made sense to do so. Bella had no idea how to go about the sale of her mother's pearls, but she assumed the task would be more easily accomplished in London. Meanwhile, she was determined to store up enough memories to last her a lifetime.

Edward did not summon her to his office again but visited her rooms each day, and not always to make love _._ They talked, read—French poetry on occasion—and laughed a great deal, especially when he was posing for the many sketches she did of him. He insisted on setting up a small studio for her to work in and was thrilled when she gave him the portrait she had done of herself.

"This is wonderful," he said. "An excellent likeness."

Bella smiled, refraining from telling him how many attempts it had taken to achieve one she was satisfied with.

Occasionally, their conversations were more sober in content, in particular when he spoke of his childhood. He did not hide his affection for his sister, Alice, but he spoke of his mother in scathing tones.

"Each evening after supper, our nanny would present us to Mother for a fifteen-minute visit, timed to the second."

Bella frowned. "Did she not visit the nursery or spend time with you otherwise?"

"We didn't even see her every day. If she had a formal engagement to attend or was otherwise indisposed, days could go by . . . weeks during The Season."

He smiled indulgently at her horrified expression.

"It was no great loss. We dreaded the encounters, as she used them to catalogue our misdemeanours and determine suitable punishments. Although I felt guilty about leaving Alice behind, it was a relief when I was sent away to school."

"What of your father?"

"We saw more of him _when_ he was around. He would find any excuse to spend time away from Mother."

Bella couldn't imagine such a distant relationship with one's parents. Determined to make up to Edward for what he had missed, she held nothing back in expressing her love for him and was amply rewarded. Despite the coolness of his upbringing, he was unselfish in displaying his affection and as eager to be with her as she with him. When the weather was fine, they walked in the gardens, taking their lunch outside by the lake. On occasion, they dined together at a table set before the fire in her sitting room. And at night they made love before falling asleep in one another's arms.

The evening after their first walk in the garden, she insisted Edward take whatever extra precautions were available to him to prevent her becoming with child. Bella's confidence in the withdrawal method, as he called it, had waned after she had mentioned it to Jessica.

"Me second cousin, Louisa, got sweet-talked by a fella who knew all about withdrawal." Jessica grimaced. "Wouldna' been so bad if 'e'd stayed around to 'elp raise her twins nine months later."

Edward's alternative methods were a tad shocking, but he had faith in their effectiveness, not that he was as concerned as Bella about failure _._ He assumed if she were to have his babe, he would be there to protect her. Only she knew their days together were numbered, and she could not risk finding herself alone, on the run, _and_ with child.

More than willing to take responsibility for preventing what he thought of as a premature conception, mainly because he wanted Bella all to himself for a time, he utilised a supply of 'French Letters.' Difficult to obtain, as they weren't legal, she was shocked to learn they were used to protect the man from disease, not the woman from becoming with child. Most gentlemen considered them a necessary evil and felt guilty about their use. Not because they were utilised outside of matrimony, but because a member of the upper classes was not supposed to deny a common woman his superior seed and the chance to bear his offspring. Despite the fact the women in question would have most likely been half-starved prostitutes ill-equipped to raise a child alone, the man was doing her a disservice, apparently.

Thankfully, Edward was willing to make use of the implements to postpone Bella's becoming with child.

The intriguing inventions made from animal intestines, not unlike a heavier duty sausage skin, required soaking in hot water before they could be used. It was time well spent, as far as Bella was concerned, considering the delightful ways Edward chose to fill the minutes while they waited for the _letters_ to achieve the necessary degree of malleability.

The other method of conception he suggested involved a small sponge soaked in vinegar or lemon juice, of all things, and a surprisingly pleasant method of application. Or maybe insertion was the more accurate term. It put control over conception into the woman's hands, as she could be forearmed, so to speak, knowledge normally kept well hidden from those of Bella's class. How Edward came to know of the intriguing method, she decided she would rather not know, just thankful to be allowed a choice. While she would have loved to bear Edward's children one day, and even now waited to see if she might be carrying his child, she did not share his belief their legitimacy was of so little consequence. Despite the pleasantness of her new existence, and her attempts to 'impersonate an ostrich,' as Miss Brewer would have accused, it was impossible to ignore the stormy reality that loomed on the horizon.

Twice, Bella looked up to see Rosalie watching them from a window while Edward and she walked together in the gardens. Even from a distance, the lady's bitter fury was unmistakable, and she stepped closer to Edward's side. A woman originally scorned and then humiliated was not one to take lightly as an adversary. The fact she had yet to try to do Bella any harm worried her more than if Edward's cousin-in-law had been open in her attack. Of Lord Hunter, she tried not to think.

One morning, almost two weeks after she had agreed to Edward's proposal, they turned a corner in the hallway and came face-to-face with his cousin.

"Good morning." Lord McCarty greeted them both before doing a double-take at Bella's altered appearance.

Unsure how to respond to the situation, she fell back on the manners instilled in her since earliest childhood and curtsied demurely. To her surprise, Edward's cousin responded by proffering a modest but definite bow.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asked upon straightening.

The muscles in Edward's arm tensed beneath her hand.

"Yes, of course. Emmett, may I introduce Miss Bella Brown. Bella, my cousin, Lord Emmett Cullen, Viscount McCarty."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Brown."

"How do you do, Lord McCarty?" she replied after a moment's hesitation.

His eyebrows shot up, no doubt in response to her cultured tones. Before she could react, he took hold of her hand, bowing over it in a respectful manner. Or it would have been if he had not held on to her fingers for a fraction longer than was customary.

"Emmett." Edward glowered.

"Oh, don't be such a bore. I was hoping for a chance to meet your lovely young paramour and offer a sincere apology for my behaviour the other day."

Bella took a step closer to Edward's side, and Lord McCarty's expression sobered.

"I am sorry for any distress my ill-considered words may have caused you, Miss Brown. In my defence, I wouldn't have acted upon them. They were intended to get a rise out of my cousin . . . a hobby of mine. Will you accept my apology?"

His words seemed sincere, and though her heart was pounding at the memory of the dreadful things he and Lord Edgeley had said that morning in Edward's study, she nodded her acceptance.

"Excellent." He smiled broadly. "Because it's obvious my cousin plans on keeping you in his life, common sense and well-meaning advice be damned." He directed the comment to Edward who grunted in reply. "Not that I can blame him. Having made your acquaintance, it's not difficult to see the appeal."

Edward's grumbled response seemed more light-hearted, and Bella smiled tentatively.

"It is a pleasure to meet you also, Lord McCarty."

He chuckled, reminding Bella that, despite superficial appearances to the contrary, this encounter still fell outside the normal parameters of polite behaviour.

"Enjoy yourself, cousin," Lord McCarty said. "Because I can guarantee Uncle will have you neutered if he finds out what you have been up to, which, I imagine, will put quite a dampener on your fun. _Not_ that I have any intention of telling him." He raised his hands when Edward stepped towards him. "Your black stallion is a joy to ride."

Ignoring Edward's curse, Lord McCarty grasped Bella's hand again and kissed the back of her gloved fingers.

"Until next time, Miss Brown." He winked, before leaving Edward and her standing in the hallway.

"Goodness." She turned to face Edward. "Your cousin is an interesting fellow. I'm sorry you had to give up your horse in exchange for his silence. Is it true your father would punish you if he found out about us?"

Edward's shrug was noncommittal, though the way he rubbed the back of his neck gave her pause.

"It is a _good_ thing we are to keep our relationship a secret." She reminded him once they had obtained the privacy of her rooms. "Although I thought you said it was common practice for gentlemen of your stature to take a mistress. Why would your father object to you following the usual trend?"

Taking a seat, Edward drew her down beside him before answering. "Because of the way our political opponents could use any hint of moral weakness to discredit our cause. Damned hypocritical of them, if you ask me, considering their own proclivities," he added.

Bella hesitated to ask what those 'proclivities' might be.

Sighing, he continued in a slightly different vein. "My father had a change of heart after Lady Platt was widowed, and he began courting her openly. He no longer approves of the keeping of mistresses, though, of course, he kept several of his own over the years."

"Of course," Bella murmured bleakly. "What caused him to change his mind?"

"Utter foolishness . . . he fell in love."

"With Lady Platt?"

Edward grimaced.

"But I thought you said it wasn't done for a gentleman, especially a lord, to marry for love?"

"It's _not_ done. My father has taken leave of his senses and will pay the price when his wife's true nature is revealed."

"But I've heard the new duchess is a caring and compassionate woman. The servants have nothing but good things to say about her." Bella would have been honoured to meet Carlisle's wife if circumstances had allowed.

"Maybe you are right." Edward's expression softened, and he drew her against his side. "She seems to be cut from a different cloth, and Father says she makes him happy. Time will tell, I suppose, but I think he will regret his folly."

Bella hoped, for both Carlisle's and Edward's sake, he was proven wrong in his assumptions. He seemed to have neatly compartmentalised the entire female population according to class, attributing aspects she would have thought had more to do with character, upbringing, and education than to breeding.

Where Bella fit, she no longer knew.

~I~

With Angela's encouragement, she ventured back to the kitchen one afternoon when Edward was busy with estate matters. Despite her friend's assurance all would be well, Bella questioned the wisdom of her actions. With Angela's company and Edward's regular attention, she could have chosen to remain in her rooms, but she missed baking and the camaraderie of the kitchen. Plus, she had an ulterior motive.

Though it pained her to do so, her thoughts were regularly exercised with trying to devise a plan for a future without Edward's support and involvement. If she was required to earn her living, references from Mrs Cope and Chef Peters would prove invaluable, as she still had no idea how to translate her mother's pearls into a nest egg. Lord Hunter's name—and that of his runaway bride—were no longer being mentioned in the papers, but she feared attempting to sell the pearls might alert him to her location.

To Bella's relief, she was treated civilly upon her return to the kitchen . . . mostly. A few of the servants looked at her askance, not that she blamed them. Her conscience had taken a battering when she had attended service one Sunday in the Worthington chapel. While she attempted to comfort herself with the knowledge that fornication was listed alongside gossip and covetousness, it still seemed a more serious sin.

If only Edward and she had lived in simpler times when a man offering a woman protection and taking her to live with him was tantamount to a wedding. She would not have fancied being one wife among many, but at least she would not have had to endure the grief of separation from the man she loved.

~I~

Almost three weeks after she became Edward's mistress, Bella responded to a knock at the door. With Angela busy attending to her laundry, she opened the door, half expecting to be greeted by another bunch of flowers or some other surprise. He had taken to bringing her gifts of chocolates, fripperies, even jewellery, though nothing too extravagant.

The surprise that awaited her was of an altogether different nature.

"Good afternoon, Miss Brown." Lord Whitlock's greeting was offered politely, but there was no disguising the grim determination in his tone. "I think it's time you and I became a little better acquainted."

 **~I~**

 **This chapter ends on a rather ominous note, so I'll post the next one straight away, as it's only short.**

 **I think hearing Edward talking about his relationship, such as it was, with his mother, helps explain his negative views of _tonnish_ ladies a little. While I wouldn't have minded the odd break and a bit of extra help when my children were young, I can't imagine seeing my children so rarely and having such a formal and distant relationship with them. Sadly, this was the norm for most upper class families. Shudder!**

 **xx Elise**


	22. Suspicions

**I've posted two chapters tonight, so don't forget to read Ch 21 before this one. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 22 - Suspicions**

Bella's heart lodged in her throat when Edward's tall, fair-haired friend pushed past her, closing the door behind him. Her first thought was dismay Angela wasn't present to act as chaperone, followed by relief the maid was occupied elsewhere with a hope she did not return any time soon. The last thing she wanted was for the vulnerable girl to be put at risk.

"How may I be of assistance, my lord?" Bella fell back on politeness but was unable to keep her voice from wavering.

"You can assist me, Miss _Brown_ , by telling me who you really are and what game it is you are playing."

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"Enough of this nonsense." He perused her meagre possessions, taking several moments to look through the pages of a sketch book. "You will not find me so easily duped as my companions. Emmett can't see past a pretty face, and as for Edward, let's just say you have my normally sensible friend wrapped around your little finger and leave it at that. I have been observing you for some time, and it is clear to me you are not what you say but something closer, I'd gauge, to what you actually appear."

"I am a commoner who has received an uncommon degree of education." Bella repeated the lie that had begun to feel like the truth, she had told it so often.

"I find that very difficult to believe." Lord Whitlock walked across the room and crowded her against the wall. "With your speech, comportment, and grace, Miss Brown, you would not appear out of place if you were a guest in this home. Whereas, I am yet to meet the daughter of a commoner who does not betray her ancestry within five minutes of opening her mouth regardless of how much effort has been put into gilding the lily. Who are you really?" He placed a hand to either side of her head against the wall, trapping her in place. "A young lady who has fallen on hard times, or something more sinister? If we were still at war, I would suspect you of being a spy sent by the French, though I imagine they'd have devised a more plausible cover than your paper-thin story. I will have the truth, Miss Brown, or so help me . . ."

"Please." She whimpered.

"Please what?" The softening of his expression gave her no comfort. His eyes darkened, and he raised a hand to run his finger down her cheek. It was the same simple caress Edward had used many times, but she shuddered in dismay at Lord Whitlock's touch. She had believed he was a gentleman after his apology for interrupting them in the study. But it appeared she had been mistaken.

"Please don't hurt me," she whispered.

Lord Whitlock let his hand fall but did not move away.

"I have no intention of hurting you, Miss Brown. I do not force myself upon unwilling women, nor would I normally encroach on a friend's territory. I am here for the answers Edward would have demanded if you hadn't beguiled him so completely. Is it money you're after? I'm not sure how much Edward has offered you. Are you open to a higher bid?"

Bella gasped, shocked by the provocative nature of his comment.

"I don't want money, yours or anyone else's."

His eyebrows rose at her denial.

"The reason I appear something other than a commoner is because my mother, a lady from a good family, married my father, a soldier and business proprietor, for love, something no gentleman seems capable of comprehending. I did fall on hard times. My father died, leaving me orphaned and without protection, and I came to Worthington Hall to find employment in a supposedly safe environment. _That is all_."

"But you have found a great deal more than that, Miss Brown, if that's even your name. No matter how enamoured he may be, Edward will never marry you. If this is some misguided attempt to entrap him, you will be quite ruined when the truth comes out."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Bella's heart ached at hearing her sad reality spelled out, albeit with a sordid twist. "Lord Masen pursued _me_ , not the other way around. He offered me his protection, and I accepted. The only thing I am guilty of is naïveté, as I had no idea what was involved."

Lord Whitlock stepped back, and she sagged against the wall.

"So, you're saying you have no interest in him?"

"I love him. I always will, no matter how impossible my situation."

Lord Whitlock studied her for a long moment. "If you are telling the truth, then you have my apology and Edward my congratulations for finding a paramour of exemplary quality in the most unlikely of settings. But I'm warning you, if this is some sort of ruse to discredit Edward, or an attempt to extort financial gain from a family well-known for their generosity, you will regret your deceit."

"My intentions in coming to Worthington Hall were without guile. I never set out to entrap Edward or to become his mistress—I had no idea such a role existed."

"How could you not know?"

Bella saw red, the hurt and betrayal she felt at the hypocrisy she had discovered inherent in her own class causing her to act without circumspection.

"Does Lady Alice know the gentlemen pursuing her for matrimony have lain with other women and intend to continue doing so once married? Is she aware she will be expected to behave as if she has a heart of stone, denying her the passion and pleasure her gentleman husband will take as his right? Or are you the exception to the rule, Lord Whitlock, and planning on honouring your wedding vows after you wed?"

His stunned expression turned calculating. "I hope you are not threatening me, Miss Brown."

"How could I? It is not like I will ever get to meet Lady Alice. I am just pointing out a young woman who has been sheltered in her upbringing would have no reason to be aware of such things. She will be lucky to have the vaguest clue as to what occurs in a marital bed!"

"Confirming my suspicion you are from a background other than that which you have purported."

"Why, because only female members of the _ton_ are raised in ignorance or have sensibilities that require protecting? What is it about so-called gentlemen that makes you assume a girl of common heritage has no reputation to protect or would automatically welcome the attentions of any man who wishes to take advantage of her?"

"Are you saying Edward forced you?"

Her anger drained away with his query.

"Not at all. He gave me a choice _—_ such as it was. I may not agree with his views in regards to the acceptability of married men keeping mistresses—views shared by most of proper society I gather, along with a determination to keep their maidens assiduously in the dark. But I care for Edward and would never do anything to intentionally harm him or his family."

Lord Whitlock continued to study her, but Bella could think of nothing else to say to prove her innocence.

"Why do I get the impression you have no intention of remaining in the role of mistress?" he asked when she made no further comment. "You must know it's the only position available to you."

"That does not make it an honourable one. Edward must marry one day, and I could not in good conscience harm his wife by deceiving her in such a manner."

"Your sympathies lie with the wife?" Lord Whitlock seemed amused by her admission.

"My sympathies lie with women of all classes who are forced into untenable situations by the unrealistic expectations of a society determined to keep them in their place, wherever that might be."

Bella sighed, certain she was wasting her breath. The system she was criticising weighed too heavily in favour of the men who perpetuated it for them to be willing to recognise its flaws.

"I suspect I may have misjudged you, Miss Brown." Lord Whitlock frowned. "And I find myself in a rather perplexing situation. I came here expecting duplicity, in which case I was ready to demand you leave Worthington Hall and never bother Edward again. Now I am concerned that is precisely what you intend to do. Are you sure such a drastic move is the only one available to you? It was not my purpose to deny Edward your company, merely to make sure he was not at risk of exploitation _._ "

The risks if she stayed with him were real, and as far as she could tell, insurmountable, just not the ones Lord Whitlock was aware of.

"The thought of Edward being harmed in any way is anathema to me," she said.

"Having made your acquaintance, I now fear your absence from his life may do the greatest harm. But I can see you have my friend's best interests at heart and will desist from pressing you further. Despite the harshness of my prior accusations, I hope you might consider coming to me if you should need assistance in the future."

Lord Whitlock's complete turnaround in manner and opinion astonished Bella, but she doubted she would ever take him up on his offer. The risks were too great.

 **~I~**

 **A few readers have asked me how many more chapters until things get 'sticky'. I'd hazard a guess and say, 'Not many!'**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**


	23. Courage

**Thanks for your lovely thoughts and insights into this story. It's been a long time since I began writing it, and sharing it with you again has brought it back to life for me.**

 **We have readers from Derbyshire (the home of Mr Darcy!) and Lancashire in England, Sunland (I love that name!) in California, Colorado and Texas to add to our growing list. Thanks for sharing. I get such a thrill thinking my stories are travelling to such far flung places. It makes me feel connected to you all, somehow. :)**

 **Chapter 23 - Courage**

If Edward was surprised by the way Bella threw herself into his arms when he arrived that evening, he made no comment other than his usual words of endearment. While Lord Whitlock and she had parted on better terms than when he had arrived, Bella had been rattled by the encounter. She didn't tell Edward about his friend's visit, afraid of his reaction and of giving away more than she should. But it saddened her to add one more prevarication to the list of those she had already told. Sometimes it felt the only honest interactions between them were at opposite ends of the spectrum . . . the superficial sharing of their ideas and opinions or the intimate sharing of their bodies.

After spending time acquainting each other with the events of their day, they dined in her suite before sitting by the fire. When it came time to retire, early as was their habit, Edward turned to her with a request.

"I thought we could spend tonight in my bed, if you were agreeable. I dreamed about having you with me so many times before offering you my protection, I would like to make it a reality on at least one occasion while we're at Worthington Hall."

Bella gave her assent, flattered to think he had wanted her so badly from their very first meeting. His considerate deeds, almost constant expressions of love and, of course, his passionate lovemaking all combined to bolster her belief in the genuineness of his affections. On occasion she questioned her worthiness to be the recipient of such bounty. But Bella concluded it was not her place to deny a man of such high standing what his erudite tastes demanded.

The smile Bella's musings elicited faded as she once more considered the future. If only she could be everything Edward wanted and needed, fulfilled every role in his life and not merely the one available to her.

"Give me a few moments to change, and I shall meet you in your suite," she called over her shoulder, fighting a growing sense of despair.

Bella had considered asking Edward to take an extended trip but feared she would incite his suspicion, not that it was easily aroused. It really was a wonder how many inconsistencies he was willing to ignore in the name of love.

When she entered the dressing room, Angela was waiting for her, having returned from her dinner with the staff. Bella had never expected to say such a thing, but she missed being able to dress herself without assistance. Not that she was pining for the horrid maid's uniform or preferred wearing her button-front blue dress day in and day out, but there was something to be said for wearing clothes that could be donned and removed without assistance.

Fashions for the upper classes were designed for the wearer to be unable to dress alone, evidence of their exalted position in society. Only members of the _ton_ could afford the requisite lady's maid or valet to help them with the extravagant garments. Unsure where her future might lead, Bella made a mental note to discuss with the seamstress ways to make a few of her plainer gowns wearable by a lady who was required to dress herself.

After receiving Angela's assistance to change into one of the modest nightgowns she presumed had once belonged to Lady Alice, Bella wished her friend a goodnight and then reassessed her attire. Thankfully, there were a few items of clothing a lady could don without aid.

Crossing to a dresser, she opened a drawer and removed the white silk gown and robe Edward had provided for her to wear their first night together. On that nerve-wracking occasion, she'd been far too shy to consider agreeing to his scandalous wishes. But something about tonight felt right _,_ and she quickly changed into the silky garments.

Although tempted to avoid looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror, Bella checked her appearance before leaving the relative safety of the dressing room. Her long red hair hung in waves almost to her waist. The locks partially cloaking her breasts which were otherwise clearly visible through the gown—a mere whisper of silk and sensuality that floated in revealing folds to the floor. Apprehensive, she considered the view from Edward's perspective, and a soft but far from shy smile lit her face as her courage returned.

Edward opened the door to his adjoining suite at Bella's knock and immediately froze in place, his jaw dropping open.

"May I come in?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." He shook his head and stepped aside.

"Heavens." She came to a halt inside the door. "How lovely."

The fire blazed, though not too hotly, and before it Edward had placed a quilt and at least a dozen pillows. Numerous candles cast a soft glow around the room, the effect rather magical.

"I'm glad you like it, but _you_ are the lovely one."

She looked up to see his gaze slowly perusing her body from top to toe and then back up again. His gaze seemed to linger over every curve, dip, and swell before meeting hers, his expression awestruck and aroused.

"You own me, Bella," he whispered. "My life, my heart, are yours."

Bella wanted to assure him he could trust her with their possession, but she couldn't. Pain stabbed at her chest when she considered what her leaving would do to him, for she doubted her own heart would ever recover. Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them and drew her into her arms, his hands sliding over the smooth silk of her gown while his lips claimed hers. He growled possessively, and she whimpered beneath the onslaught of his hands and mouth.

When he finally released her, breathless and a little dazed, she marvelled at the desire she saw in his eyes, a desire that would grow to fever pitch in them both before they found release in one another's arms. Before they could continue their journey of shared passion, she looked around and smiled.

"So, you are finally going to 'have me' on the floor by the fire?"

Edward frowned, then clapped a hand to his forehead.

"You are referring to our carriage ride when I told you all the ways I had imagined engaging you in intimate relations?"

"You do realise I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about."

"I do now. I was such an ass."

" _Ahh_ ," she whispered. "But what an irresistible 'ass' you were."

His eyes widened.

"You would rather I referred to you as a pompous ass?" She fluttered her eyelashes.

"You think I'm pompous?"

She pinched her thumb and forefinger together in front of him. "Maybe a little."

"Such impertinence demands a response," he said, lifting her in his arms.

"You seem to be forgetting I said you were an irresistible ass." She giggled as he bussed her neck with his lips.

"That's all right then." He smiled between kisses and carried her to the love nest he had created by the fire before kneeling with her in his lap. "I apologise if my uncouth words hurt or offended you in any way."

"No one could ever accuse you of lacking imagination." She smiled.

"You inspire me. My imagination. My fantasies. My dreams."

"Well, that's all right then." She moved to straddle his lap "Since you are the man of _my_ dreams."

Wiggling a little, she positioned herself so her feminine softness aligned perfectly with his decidedly masculine hardness. Rocking against him, she delighted in the feel of their bodies pressed together. Her silk covered breasts brushed against his naked chest, the nipples clearly visible through the sheer fabric. Without removing the gown, he leaned down to nuzzle her breasts through the gown, brushing them with his lips and tongue until the silk was wet and clung to her flesh. When he blew puffs of air across the damp fabric, she arched her back, eager for more of his attention. He suckled her through the wet fabric, favouring both breasts with the Same attention until she moaned aloud. After slipping the thin straps of the gown over her shoulders so that it pooled around her waist, his hands reached to cup her creamy, rose-tipped flesh.

"Now, Edward, I don't want to wait."

She had prepared herself earlier and tugged her gown up and out of the way. Releasing the ties on his pants, he allowed his erection to spring free. Grasping his length in her hand, she lifted high up on her knees to guide him to her entrance.

"Yes," he hissed as she slowly sheathed him. "You are better than any dream or fantasy."

Moving seductively, she rose up on her knees so only his tip remained inside, and then lowered herself until he was buried deep. Groaning, his hips flexed upwards in rhythm with her sensual ride. Her breasts swayed before his eyes, and he captured a nipple with his mouth. Gently sucking the peak between his lips before drawing it deeper, he tongued her sensitive flesh while she moaned. She tried to ride him harder, but his hands on her hips prevented him from going deeper.

"Edward?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she whispered. "I want more of you. _All_ of you."

His cheekbones stood out starkly as he clenched his jaw.

"Tell me if you need me to hold back."

"I promise." She moved her hand to rest on his shoulders, so she could lever herself up and down. With the other hand tangled in his hair, she guided his mouth back to her breast.

Bella had grown in boldness over the days and nights they had been together, but Edward didn't seem to mind. His groans mingled with her cries as, bathed in golden firelight, they moved together. The expectation built higher until they climaxed simultaneously, the pleasure pulsing through Bella in wave after wave until she couldn't tell where Edward ended, and she began.

Returning to a warm, loving, and very satisfying reality, she nestled sleepily in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. After slipping the gown over her head, he lay her down on the fire-warmed blanket, cushioning her head on a pillow before divesting himself of his pants. Then wrapping his body around her, Edward pulled a soft quilt over the two of them and held her close while they slept.

Bella woke before him. Leaning up on one elbow, she stared down at his precious face, tears blurring her vision, as she wondered how she would ever find the courage to leave him.

"What's wrong?" he asked upon waking.

She shook her head but didn't speak.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." He drew her down to rest her head on their shared pillow.

Lying on their sides facing one another, intimately connected by the warmth of their bare skin, Bella remained silent.

"Please, sweetheart, tell me what's bothering you."

He drew her body partly atop his, and she smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

"It's nothing. I was just thinking how much I love you, how much I love being with you like this."

"I love you, too," he whispered, and she relaxed against him, purposefully pushing her fears aside.

The soft light of the candles caught her attention, and she took in their surroundings more fully.

"You have gone to quite a bit of trouble here."

He shrugged, but she could tell he was pleased she had noticed his efforts.

"I'm thinking there might be one or two more creative ideas lurking in that wicked imagination of yours," she continued, a teasing tone to her voice as she sought to lighten the mood.

His brow quizzed as to her meaning.

"Fantasies of yours we've yet to fulfil?"

"Well, now that you mention it." He rolled her over, pinning her beneath him. "There is still a position or two we've yet to try."

"Truly?"

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Truly," he whispered, and proceeded to show her just how imaginative he could be.

 **~I~**

 **Such a short chapter, so since it's the weekend, I'll post another when I wake up in the morning.**

 **Thank you again for sharing your thoughts on the story as well as the snippets from your lives.**


	24. If

**Sorry for going AWOL! We were hit by a thunder storm on Saturday, and lightning took out the transformer near our house. It's taken almost two days to get the power back on...mainly, because they waited until Monday morning to start repairing the damage. Sigh...**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 24 - If**

Bella awoke late and lay staring at the canopy above Edward's enormous bed. He had left earlier to go for a ride, and she had enjoyed watching him wander around the room naked while he prepared for the day. Until his valet had arrived, at which point she had dived under the covers, mortified. Chuckling, Edward had lifted the blankets to peer in at her.

"Don't worry about Jenkins. He approves of you wholeheartedly. Says he's never seen me in such good form."

"Oh." Bella had lowered the covers, relieved to find the room empty of servants, approving or otherwise. "I'm glad. I think you are winning Angela over, too, which is saying something considering what the poor girl has endured."

Edward's expression had darkened at the reference, reminding her of his reaction when she had told him Angela's horrifying history—with her permission, of course. Angela's hope was her story might inspire Edward to act on behalf of other girls who found themselves in similar positions, and he had been only too willing to discuss the possibilities. Bella wanted to help in any way she could which was, in part, why she had not blurted the truth to Edward the night before when he had asked her what was wrong.

While he had slept by the fire in between their bouts of intimacy, she had lain watching him—the man she loved so recklessly—and considered what her leaving would do to him. Edward loved her, or the person he believed her to be. If she left without a word, he would be devastated. She was sure he would search for her. but she could see no alternative.

For a time, she allowed herself to ask the "what if" questions she had dared not consider until now.

If she told Edward who she really was . . .

And if he didn't assume she'd set out to entrap him, could appreciate the reasons for her ongoing deception, and was able to forgive her.

And if he was willing to keep her identity a secret to protect her father's name and keep her safe from the clutches of Lord Hunter and the authorities.

And if he was willing to forgo marriage indefinitely, as she still couldn't imagine being party to a horrid deception perpetuated against his legitimate wife. Nor did she believe she could ever bring herself to share him with another.

And if he didn't decide to "throw himself on his sword", so to speak, give up everything and be forced to flee abroad.

Then maybe they could stay together.

It was hardly surprising her eyes were filled with tears when Edward awoke. Bella had wanted to beg him to never let her go when it was she who must find a way to leave him, a way he would allow.

 _~I~_

With the morning gone by the time she had luxuriated in a bath and dressed for the day, Bella awaited Edward's arrival. He was taking her for a picnic luncheon.

"Somewhere special," he had said before departing that morning. "A place I enjoyed as a child and want to show you before we leave Worthington."

To her relief, he had completed the projects he had promised to oversee for his father and had begun making plans for their journey to Masen Park and then on to London.

When Edward escorted her outside, they were greeted by a lovely spring afternoon and a horse and buggy.

"All set?" he asked once they were both seated.

She nodded, and they departed on their jaunt, the dappled grey gelding settling into a comfortable trot.

Breathing deep of the country air Bella, once again, put her cares aside. The previous night had been extraordinary, and she knew she would relive the moments she had spent with Edward many times in the days, months, and years to come. The afternoon had the same feel about it, a treasured memory in the making.

Edward kept the horse to a steady trot, winding their way along tree-shaded lanes. Half an hour into their journey, they came upon a clearing by the river upstream from the Worthington Lake. A bend in the river had formed a rocky pool which was overhung by the branches of an enormous weeping willow.

"How lovely." Bella smiled.

"I had a feeling you'd like this place."

Leaving him to unhitch the horse and attach the hobbles that would keep it from wandering, she carried the picnic blanket to the riverbank. After spreading the blanket on the soft grass, Bella discarded her bonnet and removed the pins holding up her hair, deciding that the risk of a few freckles was entirely warranted. While it was unsettling not to know where she fit in the scheme of things, there were times when the freedom to ignore society's restrictions was quite exhilarating.

Edward placed the heavily laden picnic basket down on the blanket, and they set off, hand in hand, to explore the fairy-tale setting.

"I used to love coming here as a boy. Emmett and I would spend hours fishing in the little stream, not very successfully, mind you. That's when we weren't climbing trees or attempting to knock squirrels down from the branches with the slingshots we'd made."

"That's an awful thing to do." Bella laughed, remembering the sons of her father's staff back in Forkton behaving in a similar manner. It seemed boys would be boys, regardless of their station. "I am surprised you were allowed so much freedom."

Edward shrugged his broad shoulders. "Father may have been absent more often than not, but he made sure we had excellent tutors who believed a boy's education could not be solely found in books and the schoolroom."

"And what of your sister, Lady Alice?" Bella was curious to hear if her upbringing was in any way similar to that of a duke's daughter. "Did she also experience the same freedom, or were you and Lord McCarty too old to be bothered by a pesky girl?"

Edward's smile faded, and she wondered if she had hit upon a sore spot.

"I would like to think I would have welcomed her, despite the age gap, but our mother controlled Alice's education. She was restricted to only those pursuits considered acceptable for the training of an exemplary young lady."

"Pity," Bella murmured. "This is such a magical place. I can't imagine anyone not loving it, especially a child."

"Alice enjoys it now."

Edward helped her cross a pebbled stream to explore the shaded bank on the other side.

"She was fourteen when Mother died, young enough to still be up for a lark when I came down from university during the summers. She's a much better angler than I and has actually been known to catch our lunch, something I can't say Emmett or I ever achieved in all our years of trying. She fished further on where the stream joins the river and runs a little deeper, whereas we boys never had the patience—or the wisdom—to find the perfect spot."

"She sounds wonderful."

"She is. The two of you would get along famously," he said, then looked at her askance.

"I am sure we would have," Bella murmured after which they remained silent for a while.

Once they had taken their places on the picnic blanket, Bella served the sumptuous bounty the cooks had provided for their luncheon.

"I can't believe how many different types of flowers grow here in this one location," she said.

"That's actually my doing." Edward ran his hand across the back of his neck, and she cocked her head.

"From the time I was old enough to start badgering the head gardener, I convinced him to order in wildflowers from the catalogues I pored over whenever I got the chance. There are blooms here from all around the country, as we trialled anything with even a vague chance of surviving. I have recreated the Same setting near Masen Park. You are not the only one who likes 'flowers in general', though I have a marked preference for the less cultivated varieties."

"You have created something very special. It's a veritable wonderland, and a perfect location for children to explore and learn to appreciate the countryside. So long as they are not allowed to torment the local wildlife with slingshots!"

"Oh, come now." Edward tugged her down beside him on the blanket and leaned over her. "Can't you just see a little boy of ours playing by the stream catching tadpoles with which to taunt his sister when they grow into frogs? Or a little girl, all big eyes and gorgeous red hair like her mother, making necklaces out of daisies? You and I could lounge nearby, me reading French poetry or some nonsense while you read or sketch the bucolic scene."

Bella's smile faded, and she sat up, fussing over packing up their luncheon. The problem was she could see it all too clearly, the little boy, a miniature of Edward right down to his dark, reddish locks and green eyes, the little girl, smiling at her father, the look of adoration in her eyes mirroring the expression on her mother's face.

"Bella?" Edward stilled her hands. "We shall have a good life together, you, me, our children. I promise."

One of her eyebrows arched of its own accord, and she found herself wondering if all men were as obtuse.

"Of course, we shall," she said, not wanting to spoil the afternoon. But then she realised this was the opportunity she had been looking for.

"Doesn't it bother you?" she asked, looking him in the eye. "Loving me and yet knowing you must marry someone else one day, a suitable lady who will provide you with an heir?"

"It is my duty."

"But you are talking about _laying_ with another woman, Edward, having a child with her . . . a _child_. Will you love it the way you would love our children?"

"Of course," he said, sounding affronted.

"But you have no intention of loving your wife."

"Well, no." He frowned. "I have explained this before, Bella. A man of my station marries for duty not for love. Besides, I am already _in_ love with you."

"You are going to promise—before God and man—to love and be faithful to your wife without any intention whatsoever of keeping your vows?"

"Well, yes." He shrugged. "I thought you understood how these things work?"

"I am coming to understand how society works all too well, but that does not mean I find it agreeable or the least bit honourable."

"You think it would be more honourable if I brought shame on my family's name by marrying a commoner?"

"Of course not. Everybody knows entering into a contractual agreement with one of your own class, based on expediency and lies, is preferable to an honest relationship with a person who is unworthy by virtue of her lowly birth."

Edward jerked back as if slapped, yet Bella considered her words nothing but the truth. Now she had finally put voice to her opinions, the anger she felt over the hopelessness of the situation broke free. Leaping to her feet, she stalked away. The frustrating thing was she could not accept a proposal from him in the unlikely event it was offered. The degree of dishonour it would bring upon both their names and families, not to mention all that would be lost and all that was at stake, made it impossible for them to be together in any respectable way. Her mind understood the logic and reasoning, but that did not stop the pain from overwhelming her heart.

Thankfully, Edward gave her a few moments to calm down before coming to stand beside her. Reaching to clasp her hand, he squeezed it gently.

"I am sorry," he said.

She did not push him to explain for what he was apologising but murmured, "As am I."

It was a quiet drive back to the Hall, the tension between them palpable. They were almost home when Edward pulled the horse to a halt and turned to face her.

"You do know I would give you everything if it were in my power to do so?" His green eyes burned with sincerity. "I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too, but some things are outside our power. Some things not even love can overcome."

He stared at her for a long moment.

"Why do I get the feeling I am going to lose you one day?"

Not knowing how to reply, she remained silent.

"Just promise me one thing. Don't leave without telling me you are going, without giving me a chance to try to make things right between us or at least to make sure you will be safe, whatever you decide."

A sob caught in her throat, and she nodded jerkily. It was the concession she had been hoping for, but it broke her heart to hear him offer it.

They drove on, approaching Worthington Hall from the rear. After rounding one of the corner towers, they saw a commotion occurring near the main entrance. Several large carriages were parked in the circular driveway, and servants scurried to and fro bearing bags and trunks inside.

"Has your father returned?" Bella turned to Edward in alarm.

"I wish. I am afraid we are being graced with the august presence of the Earl and Countess of Denali and their eldest daughter, Lady Tanya."

Sighing with relief, Bella wondered at the annoyance in Edward's tone.

"Isn't that the earl with whom your father is so keen to form an alliance? The one whose vote could make all the difference in the House of Lords?" she asked.

"One and the same."

"Then why are you displeased at their arrival?"

"The problem is the nature of the alliance upon which the earl's vote currently depends, the one my father is pressuring me to agree to, sooner rather than later, as I had hoped."

A shiver ran down Bella's spine. "What alliance?" she asked.

Halting the horse, Edward turned sideways in the seat to face her.

"The earl wants me to honour the betrothal Countess Denali and my mother arranged between Tanya and me when we were babes. King Charles was capricious, but with William on the throne, both the earl and my father believe permission is more likely to be granted."

It took a moment for the full import of Edward's words to register, but when they did, the world stood still.

Edward was betrothed—to a lady of eminent suitability—whose father's vote could make the difference to the passing of a law that would change the lives of thousands of suffering individuals, possibly millions.

And he had not said a word.

Bella swayed in her seat, and he grasped her shoulders.

"My marriage is not something we have to worry about yet. Lady Tanya is only twenty-one. She won't be considered on the shelf until she's at least twenty-five. I just need to assure Lord Denali I will _eventually_ marry his daughter."

"Why wait?" Bella said, her voice flat and lifeless. "If approval from the crown is likely, you mustn't miss your opportunity. At least if you agree to this alliance, something good could come out of the arrangement other than an heir . . . a child." She finished on a sob and clambered down from the carriage seat.

"Bella!" Edward caught up with her in half a dozen strides and spun her to face him. "Let me explain."

"I think you have explained the situation very well," she said in a voice surprisingly devoid of bitterness. "I don't blame you for the way things are, Edward, but you can't expect me to just fit into your plans like a piece in a puzzle. I wasn't raised to live this life. When I think of the ways I have compromised my morals and reputation." She shuddered. "My father would be appalled if he knew what's become of me."

"Bella, please."

He went to pull her against him, but she resisted, pressing her hands firmly to his chest.

"We have an audience." She glanced towards the house. "You mustn't make a scene."

"I shall make a scene if I damned well want." He looked past her to where the Earl of Denali, his wife, daughter, and Edward's cousin-by-marriage, Lady McCarty, stood observing them. The malicious smile on Rosalie's face was impossible to miss, even from this distance. It was obvious she had orchestrated this visit and was in the process of wreaking her revenge.

"You will jeopardise the alliance," Bella said, as hopelessness overwhelmed her. "There is more than our own happiness at stake."

"You expect me to give you up?"

"I expect you to do what's right," she stated bleakly. "I shall go around the corner to the servant's entrance, and you go and greet your guests. You can tell them I am the daughter of a tenant whom you saw walking along the way and kindly gave a lift to the Hall. You could say I have come to visit a relative who works in the kitchen. Yes, I could be Chef Peter's niece. That would work."

For a moment, she thought Edward would argue, but then his shoulders sagged.

"Very well, I shall do as you suggest, but tonight we _will_ resolve this once and for all. Agreed?"

Bella nodded but did not meet his gaze. Her mind was made up, the solution to her dilemma painfully—prematurely _—_ at hand.

 **~I~**

 **Ooohhh...things are heating up! I'll be back with another chapter in a few hours. I'm just off to pick up my granddaughter who'll be staying with me for a few days during her school holidays. Yay!**

 **xx Elise**


	25. Suitable

**Good morning . . . or evening . . . or midday!**

 **We've added readers from Mumbai in Inida, Gosia and Krakow in Poland, France, Hawaii, Elkhorn - Nebraska, Tijuana in Mexico, and Ecuador. Welcome!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 25 - Suitable**

"Are ye sure ye can't trust Lord Masen with yer secret?" Angela asked. "His lordship is right taken with ye. Wot wiv the circumstances and all, 'e'd understand the need for yer deception. I'm sure of it."

"But he's betrothed, Angela, _betrothed_ , to the daughter of an earl!"

Bella continued her pacing, the only thing keeping her from giving in to the futility of tears.

"Not formal like," Angela added.

"Formal, informal, it doesn't matter." She threw her hands up in the air. "He will marry eventually, and with so much at stake, I think he must marry Lady Tanya."

Tormented by an image of Edward exchanging vows with the regal-looking blonde she had seen standing near the front of the Hall, Bella crumpled to her knees, her skirts bunched around her on the sitting room floor.

"But he loves ye, not 'er." Angela came to sit beside her. "I think ye should tell 'im yer a proper lady. I'm bettin' he'd do the right thing and marry ye instead."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Angela frowned, and Bella attempted to explain the complexities of the Marriage Act that ruled Edward's life.

"I'm a nobody," she concluded. "The King would never approve of me. Edward may love me now, but if he was forced to marry me as a matter of honour, sacrificing his heritage and position in society in the process, I fear he would come to despise me. Besides, he doesn't want to marry me. He has already told me I'm not suitable wife material for one of his station."

Angela had no rejoinder, and they sat together for a time, the maid patting her mistress's hand.

"Are ye sure ye couldn't bring yerself to accept 'is lordship's offer?" Angela asked. "Tis the way of the world for powerful men to 'ave both wives and mistresses. At least ye'd know who 'e was wiv when 'e wasn't wiv ye."

As dreadful as the prospect of sharing him sounded, Bella couldn't deny she was tempted by the suggestion.

"It ain't safe to strike out on yer own, Miss Bella. Ye're too pretty for yer own good. Without 'is lordship's protection, ye're sure to fall prey to evildoers. Whether the fellas that 'urt ye are loftily placed or lowly, it won't matter none in the end. Ye'll regret holding on to yer genteel morals when yer at their mercy."

A sob caught in Bella's throat at the dreadful pictures Angela's words inspired. A life as Edward's mistress, with all the complexities and moral ambiguity that entailed, was undoubtedly preferable to falling prey to faceless, nameless men. Without protection, she could easily end up mocked for her righteous stand. Angela had reminded her there were worse fates than the life Edward offered, and that shame and heartbreak came in many forms for the defenceless.

"What is Lady Tanya like?" she asked, her voice the barest whisper.

"She and Lady McCarty are two peas from the same pod," Angela said glumly. "It's not like she'll be expecting Lord Masen's undying devotion or would want it for that matter."

The disclosure brought Bella little comfort. "I can't help thinking how _I_ would feel if my husband was unfaithful. I don't think I could live with myself knowing I was complicit in such a terrible betrayal."

"Yer conscience will be the death of ye, Miss Bella."

"Maybe not," Bella said, though she feared it would bring her much loneliness and heartache. "You forget, I am not completely without resources."

Rising to her feet, she crossed to the dressing room, returning with the pouch containing her mother's necklace. Spilling it into her hands, she looked upon the last connection she had with her mother. The pearls shone luminously, increasing in size from either side of the dark gold clasp.

"What ye goin' to do wiv them?" Angela asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Try to sell them. The proceeds could help me to flee to America or Australia. Somewhere remote."

"How ye goin' to find a buyer willin' to give ye wot they're worth without gettin' caught?"

"I don't know. Lord Whitlock might help me if he thought it was in Edward's best interests, but he is friends with Lord Hunter—or acquaintances, at least."

"Not worth the risk." Angela shook her head vehemently. "Wot about Jessica? She's got a cousin who's a trader. He might know someone who could 'elp us."

"Us?" Bella asked hopefully.

"Ye ain't 'eadin' off alone, Miss Bella. Me and Ben will come with ye if that's wot ye decide to do."

Tears of relief and gratitude sprang to her eyes, though she still had to find a way to get Edward to let her go. Unwilling to endure the hours that loomed ahead before he could make his escape worrying in her room, she decided to don her servant's uniform and go with Angela to offer their services to the harried staff. Not surprisingly, they were welcomed with open arms. Caught up in preparing a meal fit for such distinguished, if unwelcome, visitors, she focused her attention on the desserts she was assigned to bake, an integral part of the hard-working team. If the conditions were not so exhausting, and occasionally fraught with danger, she could almost have preferred the life of a servant. That's if Edward had been one with her.

Returning to her rooms after supper, Bella discovered her monthly visitor had arrived. Edward's intriguing methods of protection had been effective, but she couldn't help feeling melancholy. A baby would have tied them together far more effectively than the marital vows she feared he would feel compelled to utter if he discovered her true identity.

Waking alone in her bed the next morning, Bella saw Angela curled up in the padded chair by the wall. The maid's neatly coiffed hair assured Bella she had not spend the night in the uncomfortable position.

"Angela?" she whispered.

Her friend's eyes fluttered open.

"Did Lord Masen not come by last night?"

"He came real late, miss, but ye'd fallen asleep, and 'e didn't want to disturb ye. He told me to tell ye that 'e'd see ye later this mornin'."

"Oh." Bella felt a mixture of disappointment and relief at the unexpected reprieve. The conversation awaiting them was not one she anticipated going easily or ending well.

"But that's not the half of it." Angela sat beside her on the bed. "There was a huge ruckus last night with the staff kept up to the wee 'ours toing and froing like mad."

"Goodness." Bella clutched the coverlet in front of her. "Whatever happened?"

"Well . . . I 'eard from Jessica, who 'eard from Bevan, who opened the door to pass Stephens an extra bottle of brandy for the gentlemen, 'cos they was gettin' low and they couldn't risk the brandy runnin' out, that the earl was tellin' Lord Masen 'e 'ad to 'urry up and set a date to marry Lady Tanya or 'e'd not support those important laws His Grace wants passed."

While it was painful to hear her fears confirmed, Lord Denali's ultimatum was no less than Bella expected.

"What did Lord Masen say?"

"Apparently, Lord Masen walked away, all upset lookin', then 'e turned and told the earl 'e couldn't marry 'is daughter 'cos 'e was in love with someone else and 'ad decided 'e would never marry rather than tell lies in church."

Bella's hand rose to cover her mouth.

"Then the earl told 'im to stop being ridiculous, that of course 'e'll 'ave to marry to provide Worthington with an heir. But Lord Masen told 'im Lord McCarty can provide the heir in 'is stead them being cousins and all. Then the shouting started, and the ladies came rushing in, and it was a right 'ullabaloo."

"Carry on." Bella rose up onto her knees.

"Well, as you can imagine, Lady Tanya was not impressed and called Lord Masen all sorts of 'orrid names. Then Lady McCarty realised what Lord Masen was sayin', that 'er 'usband would be the heir—but only if Lord Masen dies, I'm thinkin' so she could 'ave a very long wait in front of 'er' afore she gets to be a duchess—and she started to support Lord Masen. Then Lady Tanya turned on Lady McCarty and said everyone knew she was barren and wouldn't be able to provide an heir, so Lord Masen would 'ave to marry or the Worthington line would die out altogether.

"Then Lord Whitlock tried to calm everyone down, but it was no use. The earl got raving mad and said 'e'd 'ad enough of all the nonsense and Lord Masen 'ad a week to come to 'is senses or 'e, the earl, would not only rescind 'is support for His Grace's cause, 'e'd do everything in his power to see it defeated. Then 'e ordered 'is carriages brought around and everything that 'ad just been unpacked had to be packed up again, and they all left to return 'ome in the middle of the bloomin' night! Beggin' yer pardon for swearin', miss."

"That's perfectly understandable, Angela." Bella assured her, far worse swear words dancing figuratively in her head. She had never, for the life of her, expected her outburst by the river to have precipitated such a dramatic series of events. While she was moved by Edward's gesture, with so much else at stake, it was clear she could not allow him to continue down this foolhardy path. Leaping from the bed, she ran towards the dressing room.

"What are ye goin' to do?" Angela followed after her.

"I'm going to take a risk and trust Lord Whitlock with my secret. Maybe with his help I can get Edward to see reason."

"And what reason would that be?"

"That Edward needs to marry Lady Tanya for the greater good and then let me go." Bella's heart broke at the expediency to which she was forced to bow. "Unless I can bring myself to continue as his mistress, the only role for which I am suitable."

 **~I~**

 **Another short chapter and a bit of a cliffhanger (though I suspect there are a few of those in a row, as we're getting to some exciting stuff!), so I'll post another straight away. I'm not joining them together, as it messes with the numbering.**

 **xx Elise**

 **PS: I hope you can make sense of my attempt at a rural English accent for Angela. If you're struggling to figure it out, the missing letters represented by a single apostrophe where one shouldn't be is an H.**


	26. Unannounced

**I've posted two chapters close together, so make sure you've read Ch 25 first. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 26 - Unannounced**

"Are ye sure ye shouldn't have left the pearls behind?" Angela whispered, as they rushed to the servant's domain in search of Jessica. Bella had decided to speak with her first in case she was forced to leave in a hurry.

"Probably."

Her maid's advice was wise, but with all the uncertainty she faced, once she had taken her mother's pearls from their hiding place, Bella couldn't bring herself to part with them.

"Jessica may want proof." She justified lamely.

"What will ye tell 'er to explain why ye 'ave such valuable jewels in yer possession?"

Bella's stride slowed. While she had come to quite like Jessica, she was not about to trust her with the truth of her identity.

"I could say they were a gift from Edward. Do you think that would work?"

"Oh, aye." Angela nodded. "I've 'eard stories of gentlemen givin' their mistresses gifts like yer lovely pearls that later got sold when the lass fell on 'ard times."

"And what 'lovely pearls' might these be?" An imperious female voice demanded. "I knew you were just another gold-digging tart, but you can't expect to dispose of anything of value and get away with it."

Bella spun to see Rosalie standing in a doorway, her hand outstretched.

"Hand over the pearls," she said. "You may have earned the odd trinket from my cousin with your whoring, but he has no right to give away jewels that rightfully belong to the duchess _or_ me."

Bella's hackles rose. "The pearls were my mother's and not a gift from Lord Masen."

"Don't be ridiculous, you insolent strumpet. Now hand them over, or I shall call for a footman and have them forcibly removed from your person."

Bristling, Bella reached into her pocket and reluctantly withdrew her mother's necklace. Yanking the bag from her hands, Rosalie removed the pearls and began to run them through her fingers.

"Just as I suspected. These are of the finest quality, a Worthington heirloom of which I have not been apprised. Edward really has taken leave of his senses, giving such priceless jewels to his little whore. You couldn't possibly appreciate their worth."

"Please, they belonged to my mother."

Lady McCarty walked away without a backwards glance, leaving Bella to stand with her hands clenched in impotent fists at her sides.

"Oh, Miss Bella, what are ye to do now?"

"I'm going to find Edward. It's time I told him the truth . . . _past_ time. Once he calms down, I shall ask him to retrieve my pearls from Lady McCarty, though I don't imagine that will be his highest priority."

"What do ye think that will be?"

 _Throttling the life out of me_ , Bella imagined, though she didn't put voice to her fears.

"We'll just have to wait and see," she said instead.

"What about Lord Whitlock? Do ye think it would be worth trying to get him on side first?"

Fighting back tears, Bella shrugged. For the moment, all she wanted—no, needed—was to see Edward, whatever the outcome. Turning the corridor into the main hallway, she was surprised to find a procession of staff carrying all manner of luggage.

"What now?"

Angela's demand echoed Bella's thoughts exactly.

"I intend on finding out," she said, keeping her voice low as they ducked and weaved amongst the tired-looking servants. Her best guess was the Denalis had returned, although surely Edward would have spoken to her before sending word to the earl about accepting his ultimatum.

 _Or maybe not_ , she thought bleakly. It wasn't as if he required her permission.

They had almost reached the end of the hallway when Jessica approached, a tray laden with cakes and dainty sandwiches in her arms.

"Oooh, thank 'eavens." The maid pushed the heavy tray into Bella's hands. "Can ye deliver this to the green drawing room? Mr Henson's lookin' for ye anyway, so it'd be killin' two birds with one stone. I'm bustin' to go to the loo."

"Very well. Can you tell us what's going on?"

"Work, work, work, and not a damned bit o' rest for the wicked. That's wot's goin' on. Ye'd best head down to the kitchen, Angela, as they're in a right uproar wot with all the comin's and goin's." Jessica called over her shoulder, disappearing down the hallway.

"I had better go."

Angela gave Bella a wan look, and she nodded before making her way to the green drawing room. Although not entirely certain what she was going to say, she hoped to see Edward and at least find out when he would be available to meet, assuming she was allowed inside the room. The more likely outcome was Mr Henson would relieve her of her burden and send her on her way to help out in the kitchen.

"There ye are, miss. I was sent to look for ye." Stephens hurried towards her. "Yer needed inside, so ye might as well deliver the cakes at the same time."

Bella wondered who could possibly need her and why, but the footman opened the door and ushered her inside before she could ask. The drawing room was surprisingly crowded. Rosalie was present, Bella's mother's pearls around her neck, and it took all Bella's strength not to march up to her and demand them back. She was seated next to her husband and conversing with a distinguished-looking lady wearing an elegant hat. Quickly scanning the room, Bella spotted Edward standing next to a very pretty girl with dark hair styled in fashionable curls around her face. The young lady was smiling adoringly at him while, at the same time, standing far too close to Lord Whitlock for propriety.

Looking to the right, she saw a silver-haired gentleman engaged in what appeared to be a very animated conversation with Mr Henson. His bearing was familiar, and as he turned towards her, the tray she was holding fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers.

The Duke of Worthington had returned home unannounced.

Bella didn't think Edward had noticed her entrance, but he shot to his feet even before the tray hit the carpeted floor. He was cut off from approaching by his father, who, having not seen Edward's reaction, blocked his way.

"Isabella! Thank God you are safe."

Carlisle strode towards her, deftly avoiding the scattered plates and cakes at her feet before gathering her into his embrace.

"Your father did the right thing telling you to come to Worthington—no _safer_ place for you to hide. I'm just sorry I wasn't here when you arrived. Let me look at you." Pulling back, he took her hands in his and studied her closely. "Masquerading as a servant, you clever girl. It's a hard life, but you have obviously managed it. Well done. I'll bet you've been baking up a storm in the kitchens. They won't want to let you go."

While Bella could understand his relief at finding her unharmed, the Duke's air of jubilation made no sense.

"Uncle Carlisle!" The name she had called him as a child came unbidden to her lips, eliciting a chorus of gasps from around the room. Ignoring them, she continued. "Papa is dead. Lord Hunter killed him. He's told terrible lies about me."

Carlisle's expression sobered, as he looked at her with his dark grey eyes, their shape and intensity so similar to Edward's.

"Your father isn't dead, Isabella. He survived the shooting and is awaiting your return."

Frowning, she tried to make sense of his words. _Papa was alive?_

A buzzing noise cut off the rest of Carlisle's words. From the shape of his lips, he seemed to be calling her name, but she was unable to respond, the room slowly revolving around her. Catching her as she fell, Carlisle carried her to a chaise longue and laid her upon its length.

"Would someone tell me what the hell's going on?"

Bella heard Edward's demand as her hearing returned, his voice rising above the hubbub.

"Edward! Watch your language in front of the ladies. I have taught you better than that. You all must be wondering about this lovely young lady who's been working in your midst these past two months. I shall explain everything, but first, someone fetch a glass of water. Alice, would you mind, my dear?"

Bella struggled to sit up, and Carlisle supported her with an arm around her shoulders. Then the pretty, dark-haired girl passed her a glass of water with a shy smile.

Alice. Edward's sister. The resemblance was unmistakable _._

Sipping from the glass with fingers that shook, Bella tried once more to make sense of Carlisle's words.

"Papa is alive?" she whispered.

"Yes, my dear girl. He came close to death, but Mrs Waters worked a miracle with her herbal poultices. His staff conspired to keep him hidden in the village, coming up with an elaborate plan to fool that rogue, Hunter, so your father could heal in peace. As soon as he was able, he sent word to my lawyers in London, but it took a while for them to track us down, I'm afraid. When I was notified of the dreadful news, Esme and I travelled directly to Forkton before returning home, collecting Alice on the way. We had to virtually tie your father down, he was so determined to come with us. He is desperate to make sure you have come to no harm, but we didn't want to risk his recovery with what could only be a very trying journey. I told him I would return you safely to his arms as soon as humanly possible."

Bella followed his explanation with some difficulty.

Her father was alive and waiting for her to come home.

Glancing jerkily from Carlisle's enthusiastic smile to Edward's stunned expression, she closed her eyes against the onslaught of joy and pain warring within her heart.

"Father, would you _please_ tell me what's going on?" Edward asked.

"Of course, explanations and introductions are definitely in order." Carlisle smiled comfortingly at Bella, but nothing could have brought her reassurance in that moment.

Wrapping her arms tightly around her middle, she ignored the fact her actions were neither ladylike nor graceful, both being the least of her worries. Despite receiving the best news imaginable, her world was about to come crashing down.

"Isabella, I would like to introduce you to my lovely new wife, Esme."

Esme came over to where Bella sat, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek in greeting. She was a duchess, and Bella should curtsy, but when she went to stand, the gracious lady restrained her with a gentle hand.

"Please don't get up, Isabella. It's so lovely to finally meet you, my dear, as I have heard so much about you."

Edward groaned and tore at his hair.

"And this is my daughter, Alice," Carlisle continued, seeming unaware of his son's frustration.

Lady Alice offered a polite curtsy even though, strictly speaking, as the daughter of a duke, she needn't have.

"I have been very much looking forward to meeting you and do hope we will become friends. What an adventure you've had! Father says we're to debut together this season. You are going to sweep all before you when word gets out of your bravery."

Bella gaped at her in astonishment, while Carlisle chuckled, oblivious to the rising tension.

"Everyone else you will have already met in a fashion." He gestured around him. "This is my son, Edward."

He pointed to the man she knew more intimately than any other. Unable to endure his look of betrayal, she averted her gaze.

"This is my nephew, Emmett, his wife, Rosalie, and over here we have Edward's best friend, Lord Jasper Whitlock. I'm sure you are well aware of their various titles, but since you are practically family, Isabella, there is no need to stand on ceremony."

Bella looked around at the variously smiling and stunned onlookers.

"And now, I have the pleasure of formally introducing this lovely young lady whom you may have previously heard referred to as Bella Brown, but who is, in actual fact, Miss Isabella Swan, the daughter of one of my closest friends, Sir Charles Swan. He's the officer who saved my life during the war and the man you have heard me speak of before many times."

"Bloody hell."

Edward staggered backwards as if struck.

 **~I~**

 **I think that's what is called a 'rude awakening'! I'll see you all tonight. Thanks so much for all the love you're giving this old/new story. :)**

 **xx Elise**


	27. Sacrifice

**Hello to my lovely readers from Italy, Michigan, Vancouver, Poquoson - Virginia, and several more from France and the UK. I think we're all ready to throttle Rosalie (or Bitchalie as named by the adorable FangirlinGranma), and Edward's befuddlement earned a few chuckles.**

 **MILD SPOILER ALERT!  
** **Sadly,** **this story is about to get angsty, well angstier, for a little while, but I promise it won't last tooooo long. I can't abide Edward or Bella cheating on each other (no matter how things might appear) and I can't handle long separations. I barely survived New Moon, and that was a separation of months. Stories where they reunite after _years_ apart do my head in! I hope that wasn't too spoilerish...and that it helps you survive the coming drama.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 27 - Sacrifice**

Lords McCarty and Whitlock both cursed loudly.

Esme lifted a hand to her mouth, while Lady Alice looked on, bewildered.

Standing abruptly, Carlisle's smile disappeared.

"Esme, please take Alice with you and arrange for suitable accommodations for Isabella. You will need to ask the housekeeper to collect her possessions from the servants' quarters." He spoke quietly, but there was no mistaking the steel in his voice.

Rosalie began to laugh, adding to the sensation of unreality pervading the scene.

"Rosalie." Lord McCarty warned, but she took no notice.

"There's actually no need, Uncle Carlisle. Your dear _Isabella_ already has quite lovely accommodations, doesn't she, Edward?" Her tone was sweet, but there was no mistaking the spiteful expression on her face.

"Rosalie **—** "

"Now, Edward, don't be shy. You have been such a good host. Don't you want your father to know how gracious you have been to his _best friend's_ young daughter? How generous and insightful of you to offer her your protection. It's like you somehow knew she was one of us."

Edward stalked towards her, his face a mask of fury. Startled, Lady Alice cried out in alarm at the same time as Lord Whitlock lunged for Edward, grabbing hold of his arms to prevent him from attacking his cousin's wife.

"Enough, Rosalie!" Lord McCarty pulled her away from where she was taunting Edward with a sneering expression.

"Don't you 'Enough Rosalie' me." She turned on her husband. "Do you think I don't know you had plans for Isabella once Edward was finished with her, that's if you haven't already taken her to your bed? Edgeley and Whitlock, too."

Bella rocked back and forward on the couch, her faint whimpering the only sound that broke the silence following Rosalie's outburst.

"Jasper?" Lady Alice looked from him to Bella and then to Edward, her face a mask of confusion.

"Esme, please get my daughter out of here," Carlisle said with deceptive calm.

"Certainly." She cast Bella a sympathetic look and led Alice from the room.

"Emmett, take your wife to her suite and keep her there. I don't want her conversing with anyone until this situation is sorted."

"What! You can't do that!" Rosalie struggled against her husband's hold. "It's not my fault you men can't control yourselves around the little tart. Watch out, Uncle, she'll seduce _you_ next."

Bella gasped at her vicious words, while all three of the younger men began to speak at once, defending her and denying the horrid charge.

"Silence!" Carlisle roared. "Rosalie, you will have plenty of time to think over the wisdom of making any more accusations, baseless or otherwise, on your journey to Ireland. The McCarty estates have been left to moulder for far too long. Emmett, you will oversee their renovation. It shouldn't take more than six months to set your neglected estate set to rights, twelve at the outside. I suggest you make the most of the opportunity to school your wife in civilised behaviour."

Lord McCarty gripped Rosalie's upper arm, his expression grim as he led her from the room.

"For what it's worth, Miss Swan," he said, pausing in the doorway. "I would like to repeat my apology, though I can now see it was far from adequate. I am terribly sorry for any offence I may have caused you. I won't offer an apology on my wife's behalf, as I could not vouch for its sincerity, but I can assure you, you will have it in due course."

"Wait." Bella summoned her courage and spoke up. "Lord McCarty, could you please ask Lady McCarty to return my mother's pearls?"

With the way things were rapidly spiralling out of control, she thought it might be her only opportunity to get them back.

Lord McCarty demanded his wife hand over the necklace, covering her hand with his and warning her to be careful when she would have torn it from her neck. He passed the strands to Carlisle who eyed them curiously before handing them to Bella. Lord McCarty then escorted Rosalie from the room, cutting off the sound of her outraged cry when he closed the door behind them.

As the numbers in the room diminished, the tension grew.

"Lord Whitlock, I'm not sure what part you've had to play in this matter, but I believe it might be more appropriate if you were to exclude yourself from the proceedings for the time being," Carlisle requested coolly.

"Certainly, Your Grace." Lord Whitlock nodded then looked towards Bella, his expression pained. "But first, there is something I wish to say. Miss Swan, please forgive me for failing to recognise what I now see is blindingly obvious. You are a lady of quality and should have been treated as such from the outset. My accusations were both unfounded and unfeeling considering the ordeal you have endured. You have my most humble apologies."

"Thank you, Lord Whitlock," Bella whispered, relieved Lord Edgeley wasn't there to add his two pence worth, unpalatable as they'd have been. "I appreciate you coming to my rescue that day in the village and for being a voice of reason at other times."

"A word before you leave, Whitlock," Carlisle said. "There are clearly issues to discuss if you are to have any chance of continuing your courtship of my daughter. In the meantime, I will not tolerate gossip regarding this matter coming from any quarter that can be traced back to you. Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly, sir. You have my word." Lord Whitlock bowed, first to Carlisle and then to Bella. She did not rise to curtsy but nodded hesitantly before returning her gaze to the pearls woven between her fingers.

"Father." Edward spoke as soon as his friend closed the door behind him. "Let me say at the outset that nothing that has occurred here, absolutely _nothing_ , is Bella's fault in any form. She is totally blameless."

"You think I don't know that?" Carlisle closed the distance between them and poked his son sharply in the chest. "She's barely eight and ten! The maiden daughter of a cherished friend who came to _my_ home in the direst of circumstances with the expectation of finding safety, and instead she found . . ."

Turning away, Carlisle paced towards the fireplace where he braced himself against the mantle.

"I was not aware of her true identity," Edward said quietly.

"And you think that makes what's happened here acceptable?" The Duke speared his son with a look. "After everything I have taught you about how to treat those weaker and more vulnerable than yourself, you took advantage of an innocent girl working in service. Have my words meant nothing?"

"It wasn't like that." Edward pointed to Bella. "Look at her. Look at how beautiful she is. She wasn't safe, so I offered her my protection. It was never my intention to harm her, quite the opposite."

Bella hung her head in shame. She should have kept her distance. She should have somehow known what it was he was offering.

But, of course, she hadn't known until it was too late.

Carlisle straightened to his full height and moved to stand toe-to-toe with his son.

"Are you saying there was no other way for you to protect this innocent girl than by taking her to your bed?"

Edward winced, his reaction not lost on his father whose shoulders slumped with resignation.

"So, you don't deny it."

"No, I don't deny it, but there's something you need to understand. I love Bella."

Carlisle stared at his son for a long moment and then slowly shook his head. "I'm not sure you understand the meaning of the word."

The little colour that had returned to Edward's face leached away at his father's words.

"Please, Uncle Carlisle, don't be angry with Edward." Bella interrupted, and both men turned to face where she now stood. She couldn't sit by and let Edward take the blame alone for what had occurred.

"He is telling the truth. He was only trying to protect me. In hindsight, I should have told him who I was when I first arrived, but I had promised Papa I would trust no one but you. Lord Hunter had spread the lie we were betrothed, and I knew he and Edward were friends. I was afraid I would be sent back to him or handed over to the authorities if my identity was discovered."

Edward stared at her aghast. "You believed I would do such a thing . . . to you?"

"I wasn't sure in the beginning." Bella's words tumbled together in her haste to explain. "By the time I realised I could trust you, we had spent too much time alone together. Remember? You said my reputation was already ruined, even though you hadn't . . . we hadn't . . ."

Edward groaned and closed his eyes, but Carlisle urged her to continue.

"I didn't want to bring any more shame on my father's name, so I decided it was best if I kept my identity a secret and remained Bella Brown, a servant, forever."

"And what of my son's offer of protection? Did you understand what that entailed?" Carlisle asked, his tone gentle.

"Of course, she didn't." Edward barked the words. "I took advantage of her innocence and seduced her. But I never intended to set her aside. I planned to make her my mistress."

"You will make her more than that, I'm afraid. The only way this situation can be redeemed is through matrimony. I shall contact the bishop immediately, as the wedding will need to be arranged as quickly and discreetly as possible."

Bella had imagined this would be Carlisle's response if he ever discovered what had transpired between Edward and herself, and a wild and unreasoned hope fired in her chest. For a second, she thought she saw the same flash of exhilaration in Edward's face, but it faded abruptly at his father's following words.

"Thank God George is no longer on the throne." Carlisle shook his head. "Though who knows how William will respond. You have put your inheritance and the reputation of this family in grave jeopardy, Edward. I had hoped you would take your place beside me in the House of Lords, but you will be unable to offer much support considering the battle that lies ahead. If the marriage isn't approved, you will have to leave the country. Maybe Emmett will rise to the challenge. An unlikely outcome, but one can only hope. You will have to enlighten me as to his and Jasper's involvement in this matter, but that can wait for another time."

Edward hung his head, and Bella's heart ached for him.

"Isabella." Carlisle turned towards her, his expression softening. "I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for your shameful treatment at the hands of my son. Try not to be afraid. We will weather the storm of controversy with a united front and pray our new King shows some compassion. Having only just been reunited with your father, it would be cruel, indeed, if he forces your banishment. Whatever happens, you shall have my unconditional support."

Willing back the tears that stung her eyes, Bella summoned the courage to act as she knew she must.

"That won't be necessary, but thank you, Your Grace." She spoke with intentional formality and as much dignity as she could muster. Miss Brewer would have been proud.

Father and son stared at her with matching expressions of bemusement.

"Bella." Edward came close enough to take her hands in his. "You _must_ marry me. You have no other choice."

"Yes, I do."

Pulling her hands free, she turned to face Carlisle. She couldn't do what she needed to do and look at Edward at the same time.

"I do not wish to marry your son knowing his opinion of the institution and the devastating consequences our union would cause." She forestalled any objections with a raised hand. "And I do not believe marriage is the only solution to this problem."

"Bella, please. You are taking things out of context."

"What do you suggest?" Carlisle cut off his son's protests.

"The staff know me only as Bella Brown. If we do not enlighten them to my true identity, and I leave quickly and with as little fuss as possible, there is no reason for them to believe otherwise. I have been seen fleetingly by a few guests to Worthington Hall, but only in the role of a servant. I doubt I would be recognised in a different setting, as people tend to see what they _expect_ to see, not that I have any intention of leaving my home once I return to it. With Lord Whitlock's promise and Lord and Lady McCarty occupied, the only members of society we need to be concerned about are Lord Edgeley, whom I believe Edward has already suitably threatened, and the Earl and Countess of Denali and their daughter, Lady Tanya. I'm not likely to ever meet them again, but I fear they would recognise me if a meeting were to occur, having seen Edward and me together at fairly close quarters."

"Bella, there's no way Tanya or her parents will keep silent once they discover your identity," Edward said.

"I believe there is." She met his stormy gaze. "You could guarantee their silence in exchange for giving them what they want."

"You are being ridiculous. I can't marry Tanya. I love you."

"Since when does love have anything to do with marriage? We both know your views on the subject, so what does it matter whom you marry as long as the King approves? You won't have to leave the country, and it won't put your position or inheritance at risk, surely a more important consideration than any personal feelings?"

"But I have changed my views, Bella. You have changed them for me."

She almost crumpled at the pain in his voice but continued, determined to protect him from himself.

"If we marry, we will be unable to keep what has happened here a secret. You will not only lose everything and jeopardise the good work you and your father are committed to supporting, but both our families will be publicly shamed. Our children will be considered illegitimate in the country of our births. My father is alive, Edward, and he is waiting for me to come home. He has been through enough." Her voice caught on a sob. "Please, let me go to him."

"Isabella," Carlisle interrupted, his tone gentle but insistent. "Your father won't stand by and allow you to sacrifice yourself this way. He will demand reparations, as is his right."

"Not if we don't tell him what has occurred," she said. "If you do as I ask, my father won't have to know of my disgrace, no one will."

"No one except for your future husband," Edward said bitterly.

Swallowing hard, Bella spoke the words that would seal her fate and finish things between them forever.

"That shan't be a problem." She did not avert her gaze though she wanted to weep at the pain and anger in his expression. "Now that I understand the way of our world, I have decided I shall never marry. I would rather remain alone—a spinster—than be wed to a man who has no intention of honouring his vows of fidelity."

Edward flinched at her words, but he remained silent.

"Are you sure about this, Isabella?" Carlisle asked.

She briefly met his gaze, unable to say more without releasing the tears that lay just beneath the surface.

"Your plan could work," he said in a musing tone.

Edward strode a few feet away, cursing.

"Edward. Language in front of a lady."

He spun back to face them. "Oh, Bella's heard cruder language than that from me, I'm afraid, and been subject to far worse. No wonder she has no desire to marry a _gentleman_." He came to stand before her. "Your decision is final? You are determined to turn your back on us?"

"There is no 'us'," Bella whispered. "Not anymore. I was willing to be your mistress when I believed my father was dead and there were no other choices left to me. We both know I'm not suitable to be your wife, and you have to admit, the price is too high. It is time to let me go, Edward."

He stiffened at her declaration, his face losing all expression.

"Very well, Miss Swan. You have my sincerest apologies for my deplorable behaviour."

Bowing, he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, his lips brushing her bare knuckles. The tears she had been suppressing sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them back and curtsied as she had spent years training to do, knowing full well her sweeping gesture looked ridiculous in her dowdy uniform.

"Goodbye, Lord Masen. I wish you all the best for the future."

Bella met his gaze for the briefest of glances lest he see the anguish in hers and discern her true feelings.

"Are you sure about this? Truly?"

"I am," she whispered, her words a lie.

Accepting her declaration with a sharp nod, Edward released her hand and strode from the room.

 **~I~**

 **Gah! I vaguely remember wanting to write a 'reverse New Moon', but now I have to ask myself...why? If you're too worried, check out the 'Mild Spoiler Alert' above, or feel free to ask in a review or PM me with more specific questions.**

 **xx Elise**


	28. Ignorance

**Oh, the sadness! All I can say is it will make the happy times all the sweeter, but it is a trial getting there.**

 **Thank you for your wonderful words of support.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 28 - Ignorance**

The door closed behind Edward, and Bella gave in to her grief and wept.

"Come and sit." Carlisle put an arm around her shaking shoulders and led her back to the chaise longue. "There, there. Everything will be all right. Your father is alive and awaiting your return, cause for rejoicing. Don't take on so. We'll find a way through this muddle."

Sniffing back her tears, she took the lace-trimmed handkerchief he offered and dried her eyes.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"Uncle Carlisle, please. Now, you must tell me the truth. Despite the fact he has behaved abominably, and at a time when I can only imagine the depths of your fear and distress, do you love my son?"

"It doesn't matter whether I do or not," she whispered. "I should never forgive myself if I were the instrument of Edward's downfall. Besides, I don't want my father to know what has happened after all he has suffered. I fear the shock could kill him."

"There is that." Carlisle sighed. "As long as you are sure about your decision?"

"Very." Bella tried to sound confidant, her heart by no means in accord with her resolve.

The Duke studied her soberly for a long moment before his eyes fell to the pearls she had wrapped around her fingers.

"Your mother's necklace. I remember how she cherished it."

"Papa told me to bring the pearls with me when I fled. I was going to try to sell them to furnish myself with a small nest egg."

"Thank God I arrived in time. Disposing of these would have created an easy trail for Hunter to follow."

"What has happened to Lord Hunter?" Bella was curious to know the fate of the man responsible for her pain. "How did Papa stay hidden? Why did the paper say his body had been burned beyond recognition? And what of Mr and Mrs Waters and the rest of my father's staff? Are they well? Did they stay at Swan Manor under Lord Hunter's authority?"

"One question at a time." Carlisle laughed before his expression turned serious once more.

"Once your father was well enough to contact the authorities, a warrant was issued for Lord Hunter's arrest. He is most likely languishing in the Tower of London as we speak."

Bella's shoulders sagged with relief.

"He departed your father's home quite early in the piece after fleecing it of virtually everything of value, I'm afraid, absconding to London with his ill-gotten gains."

Bella covered her mouth at the thought of Swan Manor devoid of all the treasures that made it a home.

"Don't despair, my dear. I expect Hunter's estates will be reclaimed by the Crown and disposed of to make reparations to your father. Not even well-connected barons can get away with attempted murder in order to obtain an early inheritance. If they could, we'd have patricide occurring on a grand scale," he added wryly. "The Waters family hid your father to give him time to heal. In an attempt to stymie Hunter, they spun a yarn for the local authorities, stating you and your father had taken a journey. But Hunter and his compatriots staged a fire in the carriage house, sacrificing the life of some poor vagrant or itinerant worker and passing it off as your father."

"That's awful!" Bella said before asking, "But why would the authorities believe him? Surely Mr Waters told them what really happened?"

"He tried, but bearing false witness against a peer is a hanging offence. It was his word against that of Hunter's, so he was forced to recant or face imprisonment followed by an appointment with the gallows."

Bella sighed. It galled her that the word of a good man could be so easily discounted while the word of an utter scoundrel like Lord Hunter was believed instead. And all because of a position he had not earned but been gifted by accident of birth.

"Your father's men didn't want to make too much of a fuss, what with Hunter searching for you and Sir Charles unable to speak for himself. They were also afraid of alerting Hunter to your whereabouts, so they decided it was best to lay low until I made an appearance. Better late than never." Carlisle smiled ruefully, but then his smile faded. "Though not soon enough, I fear. And now we find ourselves with this dreadful conundrum."

"The solution is quite straight forward, Uncle Carlisle."

"So you say, but at the risk of appearing indelicate, I fear you may not have considered all the possible ramifications."

Bella puzzled at Carlisle's cryptic words until realisation dawned he was referring—circumspectly—to the possibility of her being with child.

"There's no need for concern." She stared down at her hands. "Edward took _precautions_. I am not . . . you don't have to worry about . . . there isn't going to be . . ."

"Very good, very good." Carlisle harrumphed, neither of them wanting to put too fine a point on such an intimate subject.

"Please, Uncle Carlisle. I would like to go home, if you will assist me."

"Of course, my dear. I shall put a carriage at your disposal immediately, though I'm in a bit of a quandary how to undertake your transfer to Swan Manor without enlightening the staff to your identity."

Bella pulled her scattered thoughts into order.

"Angela—one of the servants who befriended me when I first arrived and is now acting as my lady's maid—already knows the truth. I believe she and her beau, Ben, one of the grooms, would be willing to accompany me. Would it be possible for them to remain with me at Swan Manor? I trust their discretion and believe the life would suit them. I am sure my father would arrange to have your carriage returned at a later date when enough time has passed not to arouse suspicion."

"A workable plan, Isabella, though I'm not sure what to do in regards to chaperonage. It would be unseemly for you to traverse the countryside without proper companionship and protection."

Bella was forced to stifle a snort when she considered the journey she had taken two months earlier.

"I have it." Carlisle's expression lightened. "I shall arrange for my younger sister, Penelope, Lady Watson, to accompany you. Her estate is not more than two hours' drive from here, so you can collect her on your way. She's widowed and complains of boredom now her two boys are off at school, so I'm sure she would jump at the opportunity for a little adventure. A satisfactory outcome for all concerned, I believe."

Smiling wanly, Bella could not bring herself to agree with Carlisle's summation. But she was grateful the arrangements for her journey home seemed to be falling into place. The sooner she made a start, the less likely her secret would be revealed.

After thanking Carlisle for his kindness, she curtsied and then excused herself to prepare for the long journey ahead.

"Isabella?" he called as she reached the door. "I do appreciate the courage your decision has required, and I believe I understand the sacrifice you are making. You are a brave young lady."

"Thank you," she whispered, before making her way to her rooms.

To her relief, Angela was only too willing to accompany her on the journey to Forkton. Ben, as she suspected, would have followed Angela anywhere, and agreed to both the change in position and the need for secrecy without question.

Packing up her belongings took a lot longer than when Bella had prepared for her harried departure from Swan Manor. She doubted she would wear the dark blue dress again, but she couldn't bring herself to discard it. Angela urged her to take the new gowns when Bella would have left them behind.

"Ye don't want to wear the same dress the whole way back to Forkton, and these'll only be thrown aside or go back into storage if ye don't take 'em."

Bella nodded, grateful to have the decision made for her, though she left out the few gowns that were not appropriate for the position in society to which she was returning. Carefully tucking away the white gown and robe she had worn for Edward just two evenings prior, she did her best not to dwell on the memory. Although she suspected she would relive it many times during the lonely days ahead.

To Bella's surprise, Lady Alice came to visit not long before she was due to depart.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion?" Edward's sister asked once they were alone, Angela having gone to pack her own few belongings and make her farewells.

The story being told was that Bella was being sent to Edward's estate accompanied by Angela and Ben, a useful explanation for their joint departure and a likely tale. It wasn't unreasonable to expect the Duke would have demanded Edward send his new mistress packing upon his return. Lord and Lady McCarty were also preparing for an imminent departure. With the Duke and Duchess having only just arrived, the household was in disarray which worked to Bella's benefit.

"How may I help you, Lady Alice?" she asked.

"Please, call me Alice." The girl took a seat, directing Bella to follow suit.

"I can't say I fully understand the events that have transpired in my absence," she said, and Bella nodded. She would have been in the exact same boat if their positions had been reversed, perplexed and curious. "While I have my suspicions," Alice continued. "I expect my family will contrive to keep me in the dark—for my own good, of course—regardless of whether these matters affect me directly or not."

Bella couldn't blame Alice for her indignant tone, but she was unwilling to offer more than another cautious nod.

"Isabella. May I call you Isabella? I had determined we would be the very best of friends, and I looked forward to meeting you with breathless anticipation but . . ." She seemed at a loss, which was hardly surprising. "Please, would you be honest with me?"

"Very well," Bella said warily.

"My brother thought you were a servant, and the two of you became involved romantically?"

Bella nodded. The girl had surely heard enough to suspect as much.

"Then why are you refusing to marry him?"

"How did you know that?" Bella frowned.

"Edward told me before he rode out. He seemed very upset, and I fear he intends to do something rash. I know my father has plans for him and Lady Tanya one day, but he doesn't care for her, nor does she care for him—only the title he can give her. I realise that's the case for most marriages amongst the upper _ton_ , but surely it doesn't have to be that cold-blooded. It's obvious Edward cares for you, so I don't understand why you won't marry him. Or do you not care for him after he took advantage of you when you were vulnerable?"

"It is because I _do_ care for your brother that I cannot marry him," Bella said, going on to explain the situation as best she could.

"That blasted Marriage Act." Alice scowled. "Why is everyone so certain the King would not approve of a match between the two of you? Your father was a hero, knighted by the crown. It's not like you are a commoner or divorced or _Catholic_ ," she added on a whisper, listing the key reasons the Act had been created in the first place. "Why can't the two of you marry and live happily ever after?"

Alice and Bella were almost the same age, but after everything Bella had been through, the other girl's naïvety left her feeling much older.

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid. Your father has confirmed my fears. The only way for Edward and me to be together is if he were to give up his position in society, his titles, his estates, everything. The marriage would not be recognised by the Church, and we would be forced to flee abroad."

Alice's shocked expression and the way she let the subject drop—not even bothering to continue with her impassioned argument—validated the decision Bella had made, though she took no pleasure in being proven correct. With the time of her departure approaching, Bella expressed her gratitude to Alice for her visit and then rose and ushered her towards the door.

"I am so sorry you aren't able to marry my brother," Alice said. "I think you would have made a wonderful sister-in-law. Tanya doesn't care for anything but raising her position in society."

 _She's certainly achieved that_ , Bella mused bitterly.

"If you don't mind my asking, there is something I would like to know before you leave. Did Lord Whitlock treat you honourably?"

Thinking of how frightened she had been when the tall, fair-haired man had trapped her against the wall of her sitting room, his accusations and threats ringing in her ears, Bella took a moment to consider her response. In the end, she focused on the good he had done her.

"Yes, he behaved honourably," she said.

Alice's shoulders slumped with relief.

"What of Lord Edgeley?"

Bella's involuntary shudder was all the answer the other girl needed.

"I'm so sorry," Alice whispered. "I never really cared for him. There was something about his manner I found off-putting. I acted as if I returned his interest because I wanted to make Lord Whitlock jealous, which seems petty now. If I'm honest, I found it flattering to be pursued by two such eligible gentlemen."

"As long as they're gentlemen you can trust, and it is _you_ they are pursuing, not your dowry."

"True," Alice said before adding, "There is so much I don't understand, nor do I expect to be enlightened. I know it's customary to keep young ladies ignorant of any matter with the potential for unpleasantness. But I have come to suspect the result of such a lack of knowledge is the eventual shattering of one's hopes and dreams."

Alice's words, so close to Bella's experience, inspired her to make an unexpected offer.

"Write to me, and I shall do my best to answer your questions, discreetly, of course."

In Bella's experience, ignorance led to unwise choices and unnecessarily tragic outcomes, and there was nothing blissful about either.

 **~I~**

 **I'm thinking twice daily posts until we get to the end of this dark tunnel might be a good idea...or will that just depress everyone twice a day?**

 **xx Elise**


	29. Homecoming

**Sorry I didn't get an extra chapter posted today. Real life got in the way, I'm afraid. I'm posting this one now...it's got some interesting disclosures. And I'll be back in a few hours with the next chapter after watching The Post with my DH . . . it's his birthday. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 29 - Homecoming**

Nearing the village of Forkton five days later, Bella regretted her rash overture. Contact with someone so closely related to Edward could only bring her grief.

The journey home had passed uneventfully. Lady Watson, who insisted Bella call her Penelope, was an attractive, dark-haired lady with bright green eyes . . . like Edward. A few years younger than her brother, she had agreed immediately upon reading Carlisle's letter to escort Bella. Accompanied by her maid and a driver, Penelope planned to travel on to visit her sons after leaving Bella and her companions at Swan Manor. She had many exciting tales to tell about the travels she had taken with her late husband during the early years of their marriage, and Bella found herself daydreaming of the life she could have led with Edward if things had been different. _Very_ different.

As the miles and countryside passed, Bella wondered what she would find upon her return to Swan Manor. She wasn't the same person who had fled Forkton, and it was difficult to imagine how she would fit back into her old life. One thing she knew. She would not rest easily until she saw her father face-to-face.

"Finally," Bella whispered when Swan Manor came into view.

As the carriage approached the front of the house, their arrival was noted, and pandemonium ensued. Barely waiting until the vehicle halted, Bella clambered down unaided, indifferent to the spectacle she created. Cries of greeting and welcome assaulted her ears as she was surrounded by familiar faces, but she only had eyes for her father who stood on the front steps. Supported by Mr Waters, he was thinner than she recalled, his usually ruddy complexion overlaid with a greyish pallor. But he was alive when she had never expected to see him again.

A path opened before her, and Bella closed the distance between them, throwing herself into his arms.

"Papa!"

Her tears left a damp patch on his waistcoat as he held her close, repeating her name over and over with a voice clogged with his own unshed tears. Bella felt one splash on her neck, and she looked up to witness the unprecedented sight of her father crying.

"You are alive."

Her words overlapped with her father's declaration, "You are home!"

Laughing and weeping, they made their way into the house.

Ignoring the bare walls and incongruous gaps where generations-old furnishings had once stood, Bella concentrated on seeing her father seated in his favourite chair in the parlour. Before she could get her bearings, she was passed like a Christmas package from the arms of one person to the next in a flurry of reunion. Coming to rest in the embrace of Mrs Waters, the older woman nestled Bella against her ample bosom.

"Me girl's 'ome where she belongs."

The housekeeper sobbed, and it was Bella's turn to offer consolation.

Recalling their guest, Bella extricated herself from Mrs Water's hold and turned to find Penelope standing in the doorway.

"Please, forgive my rudeness."

"That's perfectly understandable, my dear." Penelope came to stand beside her.

"Papa." Bella turned to where he was watching proceedings with a pleased, if slightly watery-looking smile. "I would like you to meet Lady Watson, Uncle Carlisle's sister. She very kindly accompanied me on the journey home."

"Please, remain seated, Sir Charles," Penelope said. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for you suffering a setback."

While Bella knew it must gall her father not to stand and make his obeisance to such a handsome lady, he relented at Penelope's words.

"You are most welcome in my home, Lady Watson," he said. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for seeing to the safe return of my daughter."

"Please, call me Penelope, and it is I who owes the debt, Sir Charles. I've had a delightful time getting to know Isabella. Your daughter is an absolute treasure. Besides, Carlisle knew I would jump at any excuse to travel the countryside."

Bella hoped they didn't seem rude, but the furtive glances she and her father sent each other's way broadcast their desire for privacy. After a few moments spent in polite discourse and some much-appreciated refreshments, Penelope excused herself, citing the need for a rest before dinner to recover from the rigours of their journey. With the household staff returned to their duties, Bella found herself alone with her father at last.

"Isabella," he whispered, and her tears returned in earnest.

"Oh, Papa." She wrapped her arms around him, carefully in deference to his recently healed wounds. "How are you, really?"

"Mending." Her father patted her hand. "But let me look at you?"

She took a seat on a padded footstool, drawing it close to his chair.

"Goodness, you are even more beautiful than I recall," he said.

Bella smiled at his fatherly bias.

"But I fear your adventures have hastened your journey towards womanhood," he continued, and her smile faded, his words cutting a little too close to the bone. "You are a tad pale, of course, but days stuck inside a jostling carriage will accomplish that."

"I am fine, Papa. Just very glad to be home."

"My heart almost gave out when Jacob informed me Carlisle and his new bride had left on their honeymoon before you arrived. Of all the rotten luck." Her father shook his head. "I had forgotten about the wedding when I sent you halfway across the country."

"Papa?" Bella was curious to receive an answer to the question that had plagued her since her arrival at Worthington Hall. "Why were we never invited to visit Uncle Carlisle?"

"But we were. We were even invited to the wedding, as Carlisle would have liked me to stand up with him if we'd been able to attend."

"Why couldn't we attend?"

If they had been away from home when Lord Hunter had arrived for his impromptu visit, it could have saved them a great deal of anguish.

Sir Charles sighed. "I have never spoken to you about my experiences during the war, have I?"

Bella sat back, not having anticipated the direction her father's speech would take.

"Despite noble tales of heroic battles and acts of chivalry, the reality of war is quite different. It can leave a man with scars, hidden as well as visible."

"Go on, Papa." She urged when he faltered, saddened to realise her war-hero father may bear such scars.

"It wasn't as much of an issue when your mother was alive. But after she died, I found it difficult to keep the memories at bay. Here, at home, her presence assists me—as does your company, of course—but when I travel further afield . . ."

"It's all right," Bella said when his words dried up.

A vague memory of the nightmares he had suffered when they had journeyed to the seaside surfaced in her mind.

"I understand . . . a little. I may not have experienced the horrors of war, but I can honestly say I have no desire to leave Forkton, Swan Manor, or _you_ ever again."

Her father could not know how serious she was, not being in possession of all the facts, and he smiled indulgently at her words.

"I'm sure you will change your mind in due course. Now tell me, what's this preposterous tale of you masquerading as a servant?"

Not wanting to lie outright to her father, Bella stayed as close to the truth as possible, regaling him with her adventures and making light of them where possible.

"But what of Carlisle's son, the marquis, and the other members of the household? Did you never cross their paths?" her father asked.

Bella's heart lodged in her throat. Disguising her distress behind a feigned bout of coughing, she then sipped at the water Mrs Waters rushed to her hand. It confirmed she, and no doubt as many of the household staff as could squeeze behind the door, were listening in to their conversation.

"I encountered them in my role as a servant," Bella said, hoping her father would let the matter drop.

"And you conversed? They heard you speak?"

"Of course." She shrugged then recalled that it was considered ill-mannered for a young lady to gesture in such a way, a habit she had developed and would have to break.

"Idiot!"

Bella startled at her father's exclamation.

"Not you." He grimaced. "I just didn't expect Carlisle's boy would turn out to be a dunderhead."

"Lord Masen isn't a _dunderhead_." Bella was hesitant to repeat the word as she was uncertain as to its degree of offensiveness.

"Rubbish! Your speech, your demeanour, your gracious manner. Five seconds in your presence and anyone with a modicum of intelligence should have recognised you as a lady of exceptional breeding and education."

Bella was touched by his defence but couldn't help smiling. "People see what they expect to see," she said.

Her father harrumphed. "If your hair colour wasn't currently out of fashion—ridiculous, if you ask me. Queen Elizabeth must be rolling in her grave—then anyone with a lick of sense would have recognised your heritage."

"My heritage?"

"You are the spitting image of your mother, and _she_ was a princess for Heaven's sake. How anyone could mistake her daughter for a servant for a moment, let alone weeks on end, is beyond me!"

Time slowed.

Bella felt her jaw drop open, even as she noted dust motes dancing on a ray of afternoon sunshine that splashed across her father's chest.

"My mother was a _what_?"

"A princess, or she would have been if the French royal family hadn't been killed by the revolutionists."

"Why was I never told?" Bella words were more a plea of understanding than a demand. "I thought she was the daughter of a court official, that her parents were caught up in the chaos but somehow arranged for Mama to escape with some loyal servants. Didn't she live in the French countryside with distant relatives, hidden amongst peasants?"

"That's the part of the story we told you, but there was more to it."

Her father's words settled like a cold, damp cloak around Bella's shoulders.

"The French King was your grandmother's second cousin. She didn't approve of the indulgences that went on at court. Her husband, your maternal grandfather—was related to our monarchy via _his_ cousin, Frederik the fifth of Denmark's marriage to Princess Louise, Charles the Second's youngest daughter. He was a sensible man—a baron but also an officer, like me. Unfortunately, their stance against the worst of the excesses could not protect them from the uprising of the masses. Your grandparents were killed along with many other members of the royal household, but not before they provided for your mother's escape when she was still a girl."

"And the rest of the tale? How you met Mama after you helped Uncle Carlisle when he was injured?"

"All true. After we'd made it safely back to England, your mother and I were married and retired to live a quiet life in the country, shunning society and the social whirl on the pretext of preference."

"When, in actual fact, you were concerned for her safety," Bella said, and he nodded. "What about after the Bourbon Monarchy was restored? Did Mama not want to return to France and her position in the royal household?"

"Not in the least. She had seen too much and had no desire to reestablish connections with her royal relatives. We were content with our lot and hoping to grow our little family."

"Why didn't you tell me the truth when I was old enough to understand?"

This time Bella's words _were_ a demand, the consequences of her ignorance settling like a stone in her belly.

"It didn't seem relevant." Her father shrugged, and she resisted the urge to succumb to a fit of hysterics. "The danger is past, but otherwise, what difference would it have made?"

"What difference? Papa, my place in society must surely be influenced by a heritage of which I had no knowledge. I thought I was ranked at the very lower end of the _ton_ , but if I understand correctly, you are telling me . . ."

"You rank right up there with the royal family." He chuckled.

"Does Uncle Carlisle know?"

Her father shook his head. "He suspected your mother was a member of the French nobility but was unaware how highly placed. In hindsight, I think it's a pity she didn't let him know they were related, second or third cousins, I believe. She wanted a fresh start without all the attention and heightened expectations being a member of royalty would bring."

"It's been such a long time. Surely Mama's heritage is irrelevant to my standing in society." Bella attempted to convince herself she hadn't just made a colossal mistake because she had been kept in the dark . . . again.

"Oh no, it's very relevant," her father said, dashing her faint hope. "I didn't pursue your royal connections earlier, as I had no desire to expose you to the court of Goerge IV. Your mother and I wanted you to grow up in the relative freedom of the countryside without undue pressure. But now that you are about to embark on your entrée into society, the secrecy will no longer be possible. The news will cause quite a stir, but I'm sure you will be welcomed with open arms by your royal relatives."

Bella stared blankly.

"When were you going to tell me any of this?"

"I thought I would explain it all a little closer to the time you were due to leave for London, so you wouldn't worry. If Hunter hadn't shown up, it would have all been out in the open by now."

"Do you think he knew? Was that why he wanted to marry me? Though what difference does it make if I am related to royalty? The connection sounds tenuous, at best, and my dowry is not substantial."

"About that."

Her father shifted in his seat, and Bella found herself hoping his hesitation was because he was tired and needed to rest, not that he had any more shocking news to disclose.

"Papa?"

"I'm not sure if that scoundrel got wind of your true identity, but he knew about the pearls, so it's a possibility."

"Mama's pearls are valuable, aren't they?"

"Your pearls now, and yes, incredibly valuable. They were a gift from the Emperor of Prussia to one of your great-great-grandmothers, passed down from mother to daughter. They're not a part of the Swan estate, and I didn't want Hunter getting his hands on them. The rest of your mother's jewels were well hidden. Mr Waters let Hunter think he was getting the best of what the estate had to offer—which he did, I suppose—when in actual fact, the real treasure was in a chest hiding beneath a sack of potatoes in the vegetable cellar."

"Mama's jewels?"

As far as Bella had known, her mother didn't have any jewels other than her pearls, a lovely cameo locket her father gave her for their anniversary one year, and a handful of trinkets.

"She didn't wear them as they would have advertised who she was. But we kept them for your inheritance since the entail, blasted thing, doesn't allow me to leave you my estate." He father scowled. "But I digress. My plan was to keep the jewels your mother smuggled out of France a secret. They were given to her by your grandparents to secure her safety.

"I know it's not the way things are done, but I didn't want it known when you début that you are a very wealthy young woman. You would have every gold-digging ne'er-do-well and down-on-his-luck noble after your hand. That's why I only arranged for you to have a relatively modest dowry. It's not that I couldn't afford more but . . ."

"But what, Papa?"

"What I'm about to say would be considered inappropriate by most members of society, but I want you to have what your mother and I did. Love."

"Love," Bella whispered, his words confirming what she had always known. "You and Mama were in love."

"Very much so. It is no longer considered quite so unpopular to feel great affection for one's spouse. But it's still not something one would normally admit to—not in our sphere. That's another reason we chose to withdraw to the countryside away from the discerning eye of the _ton_."

"And you wanted the same for me, that I should marry for love and not because my dowry could save some penniless lord's estate."

Her father nodded, the tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes speaking volumes for his sincerity. He had meant well, and Bella would forgive him, of course. But by keeping the truth from her, he had destroyed her chance of having the very love he spoke of.

 **~I~**

 **Well, that was quite the series of revelations. How did you like Bella's heritage? Talk about convoluted! The various royal houses were constantly intermarrying to improve ties and increase their standings. If only she had known _before_ rotten old Hunter arrived, I have a feeling she might have trusted Edward with the truth. :(**

 **See you soon,**

 **xx Elise**


	30. Happiness

**Here is the second chapter for this evening, so make sure you read Ch 29 first. :)**

 **The melancholic drama continues . . .**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 30 - Happiness**

Faced with a receiving line of staff upon leaving her father, Bella assured them of her well-being, her newly honed talent for deception put to good use. Despite an almost desperate desire for solitude, she spent time asking after each person and thanking them for the care they had taken of her father during her absence.

"It was our pleasure, Miss Isabella," Mrs Waters said. "Though we're awful sorry we couldn't stop that 'orrid Lord Hunter from ransacking the place."

"You are alive and well, as is my father—thanks to you—and that's all that matters. Furniture and possessions can be replaced . . . people cannot."

Bella smiled, and the housekeeper pulled her into another of her warm embraces.

Her reunion with Chef Luis was particularly poignant, as he insisted she tell him all about her experiences masquerading as a pastry chef.

"Who knew your little hobby would help save your life," he exclaimed in his typically flamboyant Gallic manner.

"Who indeed."

Bella promised to share with him the new recipes she had discovered when she was recovered from her journey. It was only as she ascended the stairs to her old room that she was able to fully consider her father's stunning revelations.

She might not be the daughter of a duke or an earl, but it appeared she was a suitable candidate for Edward's wife after all. Or she would have been if she had not damaged her reputation beyond repair by agreeing to first become his mistress. The concerns that drove her to leave Worthington were still valid, if not more so. If knowledge of her downfall was made public, she would bring ruin on both their families and quite possibly shame the royal households of several countries.

Now wasn't the time, but Bella would need to find a way to convince her father she did not want to go up to London for The Season or to have her heritage revealed. Maybe if she told him she was suffering from the same malady that had kept him homebound these many years, he would be sympathetic. She had certainly experienced her share of trauma the previous two months.

Edward's and Lady Tanya's betrothal would be all but binding by now. He would have to petition King William for permission before the formal announcement was made, but she doubted there would be any delay. Why wouldn't the King be pleased to marry the son of a cousin, one of his most prominent dukes, to the daughter of a leading earl? The match was most fitting.

Not sure how much longer she could hold back her tears, Bella entered her old room and found Angela busily rearranging her expanded wardrobe of dresses.

"Oh, Miss Bella." Angela rushed to greet her. "Thank ye so much for invitin' us to work in yer lovely 'ome. Everyone is so friendly, and I've been given a room of me own, and Ben has 'is own room above the stables, and Mr Waters 'as already said if Ben and me wed at a later date, we'll 'ave our own little place above the carriage 'ouse, and we can even keep workin' 'ere if we 'ave bairns, and yer papa, Sir Charles, is the best employer I've ever 'eard of!"

Laughing at her enthusiastic recital, Bella drew the excited girl into her arms, relieved that having the couple accompany her to Swan Manor appeared to have been in their best interests. Angela froze and then tentatively hugged Bella in return.

"Thank _you_ , Angela, for agreeing to come with me and for being such a good friend."

When she released her, Angela flapped her hands in front of her face to ward off her happy tears.

"Oh, we're a right pair, ain't we, miss?"

She sniffed, and Bella nodded in agreement, dabbing at her eyes with the lace handkerchief she had made sure to have on hand for her homecoming.

Angela excused herself to go tell Ben her news, promising to return in time to assist her mistress in dressing for dinner. Alone at last, Bella glanced at her reflection in the mirror, surprised the changes weren't more obvious.

A letter sitting propped up on her dresser caught her attention, and her heart began to pound.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the fanciful idea that Edward might have written to her even before she noted the feminine script.

She had begged him to let her go, told him there was no future for them in any form, and ordered him to marry another woman. Of course, he wouldn't have written.

With a sob catching in her throat, Bella broke the seal and opened the letter to read.

 _Dear Isabella,_

 _I am very sorry to be the bearer of such sad tidings, but in the interest of our shared desire for honest and full disclosure, I thought you would prefer to be informed of events._

Moving to sit on the edge of her bed, Bella steeled herself for what was to come while questioning her assertion that ignorance was incapable of producing happiness.

 _To my distress and Father's vexation, Jasper rode out after Edward before Father could speak with him—about what, he will not say—and they did not return from their visit to Denali Park until the day after you had departed. When Edward discovered you had left Worthington Hall, he appeared quite stunned. But then he said you returning to your father was for the best, as it was going to take time to sort out the mess he'd created. Then Father asked him what he was talking about, at which point, to my complete and utter frustration, I was ushered from the room! There was much shouting, but I was unable to discern what was being said, despite listening diligently at the door._

 _The next thing I knew, Edward was packing to depart, all grim-faced and tight-lipped. He left immediately, having only just returned, and now I have no idea what's going on, and no one will enlighten me. Father tells me not to worry, and Esme, though very kind, refuses to answer any of my questions, saying she does not want to usurp her husband's authority. Then Father told me he has doubts about Lord Whitlock's suitability as a prospective husband. But when I told him I thought very highly of Jasper and asked why he had lost favour in Father's eyes, he wouldn't elaborate, merely saying I must trust his judgement on the matter. While I understand that is the way things are done, it seems terribly unfair my feelings don't carry more weight._

 _I had hoped to speak to Lord Whitlock, to see if he would enlighten me as to the cause of the sudden rift between him and my father, but he left Worthington Hall with Edward, and he never even came to say goodbye. If I was less of a lady, I would have chased after him and demanded an explanation. But not wanting to risk appearing indecorous, I limited myself to watching his departure through the lace curtain of my room . . . and my copious tears. To add to my confusion, he sat upon his horse and stared up at my window for the longest time before turning and riding away, though I am certain he did not see me. His valet followed sometime later in the carriage he had arrived in, leading me to believe he is not planning on returning, so I have no idea when, or if, I shall ever see him again._

 _Adding to the mystery, Father travelled to visit the Denalis the next day, returning with a foul disposition. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me not to worry—an impossibility, I assure you—merely saying the earl had a lot to answer for. Then I overheard him telling Esme it looked like there would be more than one wedding. When I requested to know—remarkably politely, considering the circumstances—to whom he was referring, he said Lady Tanya was to be married forthwith, but that it was to be a quiet affair. A quiet affair? I tell you, that does not sound like something Tanya would agree to at all._

 _Of course, I cannot get a straight answer out of anyone. I can only assume the earl has made his support of Father's political cause contingent on Edward and Tanya being wed without delay for fear Edward will change his mind. This seems quite unnecessary as Father says Edward is finally behaving with honour if a complete lack of sense—don't ask me what that means—so I do not imagine he would renege on such an important agreement._

 _Oh, Isabella, I do so wish it was you Edward was marrying and not Tanya. I realise one must do one's duty, and it doesn't appear Edward has any choice in the matter, but I fear he is making a terrible mistake. Truly, I am all woe and gloom at the travesty I see unfolding before me. But the outcome appears inevitable. After persistent questioning, Father finally admitted Edward has gone to the King to request permission to wed, confirming my dreadful conclusion._

 _If it is not too much to ask, I would appreciate it if you could find it in your heart to enlighten me to the actions that precipitated these events. I am considering asking my lady's maid, Agatha, what she knows, but I would rather hear directly from you if you are still willing to correspond after my delivering such melancholic news._

 _Please forgive me for being the bearer of such woe._

 _Your friend,_

 _Alice_

 _P.S. If I do not hear from you, I will assume you no longer desire a friendship, and though I would be greatly saddened by such a decision, I promise to honour your wishes._

Bella read through the letter twice in an attempt to make sense of Alice's somewhat garbled rendition of events. Edward had taken her advice and gone straight to the Earl of Denali to repair the breach and arrange to marry Lady Tanya. She did not blame him. It was the logical thing for him to do, and she had made her wishes clear. But oh, how her heart ached at the thought he would soon be in the arms of another woman.

When she no longer ran the risk of soaking the paper with her tears, Bella read through it a third time and found herself puzzling about why the wedding was required to occur hastily. Not that it mattered. The revelation of her unexpected heritage had come too late.

Disconsolate, she crossed to the window and stared out at the rain-soaked afternoon. Following a dripping trail of water down the pane with her finger, she couldn't help but think of Edward, in particular, the way his wavy locks would not be tamed despite the best intentions of his valet. She pictured him gazing at her with his sea green eyes that could be dark and intense, hot and sensual, or soft and loving all dependent on his mood. Then there was his smile, the one that entranced her, warmed her from within, and inevitably drew an answering smile from her lips and heart.

"Oh, Edward, I wish you happiness," she whispered, leaning her head against the window frame, her breath fogging the glass. For herself, she could not imagine being truly happy ever again.

 **~I~**

 **Oh Alice . . . She makes me chuckle, though keep in mind, her interpretation of events is potentially skewed by some serious gaps in her knowledge. That's all I'm saying!**

 **I'll see all you wonderful folk tomorrow. Thank you, so much, for your lovely reviews and appreciation of this story. It is quite something knowing there are people our wonderful world over (on every continent I believe) looking forward to these updates. :)**

 **xx Elise**


	31. Purpose

**Silly me! I've been up for ages, but I forgot to post this! I hope it's not too late for my US readers to enjoy.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 31 - Purpose**

Dinner with her father and Penelope was an ordeal Bella endured as best she could. She listened politely to their tales—mostly amusing, though sometimes harrowing when Penelope questioned her father about recent events. Contributing when required to the conversation, Bella thought she was doing quite well at hiding her true feelings. But after one too many lapses, when she was tardy in her responses, Penelope eyed her considerately.

"So, Isabella, what did you make of my nephew, Edward?"

Bella startled so badly she dropped her fork, sending it clattering to the ground. Wilson, their one and only footman, rushed to pick it up and fetch her a clean utensil.

"The marquis?"

She did her best to affect a nonchalant expression while hiding her trembling hands in her lap.

"Yes, he's a very handsome young man, wouldn't you say?"

Penelope's tone was not unkind, but there was no missing the speculative slant to her brows.

Swallowing hard, Bella knew she would have to do better if she were to be successful in allaying Edward's aunt's suspicions.

"Oh, yes, very handsome," she said. Denying the obvious seemed unwise. "There was much discussion amongst the serving girls as to who was the most attractive. Lord Whitlock, Lord McCarty, or Lord Masen." Bella made no mention of Lord Edgeley, the mere thought of the man sending a shiver down her spine.

"Pity the boy's a darn fool," her father muttered. "Forgive my language, Penelope, but I'm afraid your nephew can't be very bright if he mistook my daughter for a servant for two entire months."

"That does seem remarkable. Are you sure he didn't guess you were a lady of quality, Isabella?"

"No, never." Bella answered truthfully, then followed it up with a lie. "Not that I spent much time in his presence. I worked in the kitchen mostly."

"It's just a hobby, of course, but Isabella was trained by one of the best pastry chefs to ever come out of France."

Her father beamed, enjoying the opportunity to boast to one of their peers about his daughter's unusual talent. He had informed Penelope of her heritage and more than Bella had expected about her stay at Worthington Hall.

"How extraordinary."

Penelope continued to eye Bella curiously, no doubt still amazed by the revelation of the double life she'd led while awaiting her brother's return. Carlisle's letter, introducing Bella and requesting Penelope's chaperonage for her journey, had been purposefully vague regarding the nature of her stay in his home. But her father didn't seem concerned about Penelope knowing of her misadventure, not that he knew the full story, of course.

"I admit to having harboured the hope Isabella and Edward might come to an agreement if given the opportunity to get to know one another," her father added.

It took all Bella's recently developed skill at subterfuge not to give away the extent of her shock.

"Papa?" she asked hoarsely. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Just that I thought you two might make a good match."

He eyed her purposefully, signalling for her to be careful what she said in front of Penelope. Bella stared at him blankly, wondering what exactly she was supposed to be being discreet about. But then she recalled his words from earlier in the afternoon, how he wanted her to marry for love as he and her mother had done. Her father had been hoping Edward and she would meet and fall in love. Of course, he wouldn't want her to mention such an unconventional notion in front of their guest.

"Oh, what a splendid idea, Charles." Penelope politely ignored the silent message he'd sent Bella's way. "You and Carlisle are such good friends. How fortuitous it would be if your children were to marry. You could be grandparents together!"

Her father's cheeks coloured at that notion. "Yes, well, I hadn't thought quite that far."

"I hardly think someone of the marquis's position in society would be interested in someone like me," Bella said, wanting to put a stop to this painful of conversations as quickly as possible.

"Nonsense," her father said. "You are beautiful, intelligent, _and_ related to several royal houses. The boy's going to kick himself when he realises what an opportunity he let pass by just because he couldn't see beyond a servant's uniform to recognise the lady of exceptional quality beneath."

 _Oh, Edward had well and truly seen beneath the uniform,_ Bella mused, the scandalous thought causing her cheeks to flush. Busying herself with her dessert, she applied herself to each bite of the strawberry tart as if she had never tasted anything finer. In reality, it was like dirt in her mouth. She chewed mechanically, swallowing each dry morsel with a sip of the wine her father had served her in honour of her homecoming.

"Well, it's not too late," Penelope said. "I shall make the introduction myself when Isabella comes up to London for the season. She is most welcome to stay with me at my townhouse. In fact, I would be happy to act as chaperone and introduce her to society."

Her father seemed taken with the idea while Bella did her best to stifle her splutter of dismay.

"What a jolly surprise it will be when Edward discovers the young lass he had seen working as a maid in his father's home is both a member of the royal family and a distant relative. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a betrothal announced before the season is over. The _ton_ will be agog at the news."

Penelope's smile was quite genuine, but Bella stared at her in horror.

"That's impossible. Edward is betrothed already, I mean _Lord Masen_ , to Lady Tanya Denali. They are to be married forthwith."

Bella's declaration was met with silence.

"Really?" Penelope said. "I haven't been informed of such a development. Are you sure?"

"Quite." Bella modified her tone. "It came up in conversation after Uncle Carlisle formally introduced me to everyone just before my return home. Lady Alice mentioned it again in a letter she wrote after I had left but which arrived at Swan Manor before me."

"I'm surprised Carlisle didn't speak of it in the letter he wrote to me," her father said.

To Bella's relief, he shrugged, seeming to dismiss the matter.

"I am sure it's for the best," he added. "I can't see my Bella enjoying the life of a marchioness with all that formality and public scrutiny. Though I suppose you will have to get used to increased attention when your heritage is revealed." He addressed Bella directly. "Regardless, I would never agree to your marrying a simpleton."

Bella forced herself to laugh at his words, but Penelope did not join in.

"Well I, for one, am disappointed," she said soberly. "I have always thought of Edward as a sensitive individual. The match may have been orchestrated by their respective mothers from before their births, but it's obvious to me he and Tanya are not well suited. I am surprised Carlisle has agreed to the union. I do hope he hasn't sacrificed his son's happiness to his political ambitions, no matter how honourable."

Bella's father eyed Penelope and then cautiously sounded out her opinion on the potential merits of affection and sentiment in family life. Her spirited defence of the keeping of one's marital vows—a cause now close to Bella's heart—and the joy she expressed over her brother's recent good fortune at finding love in his later years impressed her father. While Bella was pleased to see the colour and animation returning to his face, wiping years off his appearance in the process, she excused herself at the earliest opportunity, citing residual fatigue from the journey as her excuse.

After kissing her father's cheek, she bid him and Penelope goodnight.

"Isabella," Penelope called when she reached the door. "I would like you to know I think you would have made Edward a far more suitable bride than Tanya, and I am sorry the two of you didn't get to meet under more congenial circumstances."

Flustered and fighting tears, Bella was unable to compose a proper reply. Making do with a curtsy, she turned and fled.

~I~

Penelope had been planning to depart the next morning, eager to visit her sons, but she stayed another two nights. The friendship growing between her and Bella's father was a bittersweet development. While Bella did not begrudge her father the opportunity to find happiness after the many years he had spent grieving the loss of her mother, the thought of a union between him and Edward's aunt was not one that filled her with joy. It wasn't that she disapproved of Penelope, but a permanent connection with Edward's family could only cause Bella great sorrow. Hearing news of him on a regular basis or, worse still, encountering him—and his wife—at combined family gatherings, was unthinkable.

Bella strove to keep her feelings hidden, determined not to distress her father or discourage him from pursuing this path if he so desired. But when he and Penelope made arrangements for Bella to stay with her for the height of the season, mere weeks away, she declared she could not bear to be parted from her father after their recent harrowing separation.

"Then I shall just have to come up to London with you," he said.

"How lovely."

Penelope beamed her happiness at his suggestion while Bella stared, aghast.

"I would offer to have you both stay with me, but that would appear unseemly. I'm sure Carlisle would be pleased to have you visit with him. Could Isabella still reside with me, Charles? I should enjoy the company of such a lovely young lady, and the arrangement would give you ample excuse to visit me as often as you wished."

Bella's father blushed at Penelope's comment and then, to Bella's horror, agreed.

"But Papa." She eyed him pointedly, while shooting Penelope a placating smile. "That would mean travelling, away from Forkton, a _long_ way away from Forkton."

"I know, my dear," he said. "I have explained to Penelope about my limitations, but it's time I overcame them, don't you think?"

Unable to conceive of a plausible argument, Bella smiled wanly and began to mentally prepare herself for the ordeal ahead. She would be introduced to the King and presented to society as his relative. At least with her father and Penelope by her side, she could hopefully dispel the dreadful lies Lord Hunter had spread to disparage her reputation. Although if the truth of her recent behaviour was ever to become public knowledge, she feared the new round of rumours would make the old one's pale into insignificance.

After Penelope's departure, and a promise they would meet up in London in a few weeks' time, Bella struggled to keep the melancholy at bay. When she finally sat down to write to Alice, she struggled over what to say, eventually deciding to tell Alice she had come to care for her brother dearly and wished him only the very best of happiness. She almost didn't inform Alice of the unexpected news of her heritage, but Penelope had received Sir Charles's permission to inform Carlisle and Esme when she next encountered them, so there didn't seem to be any point hiding the news.

Bella wondered if Edward would be angry or upset when he heard or if he would have already moved on, caught up in preparations for his upcoming nuptials and the search to find a suitable woman to replace her as his mistress.

Wincing, she rebuked herself for the unkind thoughts.

Edward had loved her. He had even said his views on marriage had changed, but what such a change in his beliefs and values augured for his future, Bella did not know. She had written the truth to Alice and found herself praying for his happiness even though it meant she expected him to find it without her.

Her father promised not to boast to anyone else of her escapades once she reminded him most members of society would be scandalised not impressed by her masquerading as a maid. Together they created a fiction she had gone to stay with Miss Brewer, her governess, after her father was shot, only returning when Carlisle came to fetch her.

Jacob and Leah, unsurprisingly, were difficult to fool. Bella almost broke down and told them the truth of what had occurred during her time at Worthington Hall, but she knew it would serve no purpose other than to distress them. Their reunion was emotional enough, made even more so by the news she had been granted permission to impart. Her father was gifting the betrothed couple a cottage of their own and an endowment to help see to their futures in gratitude for assisting Bella in her escape.

Jacob was flummoxed, though Leah's squeals of delight more than made up for his speechlessness when Bella told them the news. Their happiness planted the seeds of an idea for how she could make her own future more bearable. She might not be able to attain her own happily ever after, but she could make a difference in the lives of others. In particular, she wanted to help young girls who were suffering as Angela had, as Bella could have been made to if Edward had not protected her.

With the decision made, her impending trip to London no longer seemed quite so pointless an undertaking. She would discover which charities assisted young girls to escape from abusive situations and offer her aid. With the influence her father predicted would come with her new station, and the newfound wealth he assured her was hers to do with as she wished, Bella was determined to make a difference in the world.

The future stretched before her—lonely, without Edward—but no longer without purpose.

 **~I~**

 **Since she is not dealing with the loss of a 'supernatural/fairytale' lover, I wanted to make this Bella a little more resilient than Canon. While I think love is wonderful and finding that 'special person' to share one's life with is an amazing thing, I don't believe it is the** _only_ **source of happiness or fulfillment in a woman's life. That doesn't mean I don't want Bella to have her HEA, but I like the idea that she's not allowing herself to wallow in self-pity indefinitely and is making plans for her future.**

 **xx Elise**


	32. Visitors

**Ooh...this is a fun chapter, if I do say so myself. (I wrote it so long ago, it's like reading something written by someone else, so I feel like I can be, at least, somewhat impartial.)**

 **Welcome to my wonderful readers from Central Nigeria and Mendoza in Argentina. I hope I haven't missed giving anyone a shout out.**

 **xx Elise**

 **Chapter 32 - Visitors**

With her father napping in his study, Bella spent the afternoon in the sitting room. A little over a week after Penelope's departure, despite being an avid fan of her wit and clever prose, Bella struggled to reread her favourite novel of Miss Austen's, her mind wandering easily. Gazing out the window, she couldn't help picturing Edward as the hero, a mere _Mister_ , and therefore within her earlier reach. Consequently, she had a clear view of the grand carriage that drove up to the front of Swan Manor.

Bella's first thought was Edward had come for her, that it wasn't too late after all. Then her keen eyes discerned the heraldry on the door of the carriage, and her hopes faded as quickly as they had formed.

The carriage belonged to Carlisle, the Worthington crest similar but distinct from that of his heir, the Marquis of Masen.

"Miss Bella, Miss Bella." Angela rushed into the room. "It's the Duke's coach, from Worthington!"

"Yes, I can see that."

Bella stood and smoothed her skirts before walking, as calmly as the situation allowed, out to greet their unexpected guests.

With a smile fixed firmly in place, she nodded to the driver and grooms who were being greeted enthusiastically by Ben. He had come rushing from his work on the recently burned carriage house with Mr Waters not far behind him. It was only when she noted their curious expressions she realised her dilemma.

They knew her as Bella Brown, not Miss Isabella Swan, and her smile faltered. After all the trouble she had gone to, the sacrifices she had made, to avoid exposure, Bella couldn't understand why Carlisle would jeopardise everything by coming to her home.

Mr Waters opened the carriage door for her guests to alight, but to her confusion, it was not Carlisle or even Esme who stepped down from the carriage, but Alice. And she appeared to be all alone.

"Isabella, how lovely to see you again."

Bella curtsied in response to her greeting, darting the hovering servants a wary look.

Alice immediately drew her a few feet away and whispered, "I can see you are worried, but let me put your mind at rest. You have nothing to fear, as my father made an announcement to the staff explaining everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. He told them how you went to Worthington at your father's behest to seek shelter, and how Edward learned of your true identity in a letter Father sent him, entrusting you into his care. While his handling of the matter might have _appeared_ somewhat untoward, Edward was, in fact, acting to protect and safeguard your virtue at all times."

"And they believed that?"

"You are very well thought of amongst the staff," Alice said admiringly. "Once Mrs Cope and Mr Henson understood the _true_ situation, they only had glowing words to speak of your bravery and strength of character. They were relieved to learn Edward had been behaving with the utmost honour, protecting you from discovery and capture by that rogue, Lord Hunter. The staff is thrilled to have been party to thwarting his dastardly intentions. Plus," she added pointedly, "they've all been paid a generous bonus for assisting with your safe harbour."

"Well, then, that's all right, I suppose."

Just as money talked, it could also silence, but Bella wondered for how long.

"Shall I go wake yer father, Miss Bella?" Mrs Waters asked.

"No. Let him rest," Bella advised.

She could do with a few moments alone with Edward's sister before tackling her father's inevitable questions.

"Where are your parents?" she asked as soon as they were alone in the sitting room. "Are they following in a separate carriage?"

"No, no." Alice waved a hand. "They're in London trying to talk sense into Edward. They left me behind, can you believe it? I was supposed to wait for my new governess to arrive before joining them for the season."

Bella stared at her in astonishment. "You travelled all the way from Worthington unchaperoned?"

"No, of course not. I brought Great Aunt Mildred. She doesn't do anything but sleep anyway—which is what she's doing now, sleeping in the carriage with my lady's maid, Agatha watching over her—so there's no need to worry. After I received your letter, I knew I had to come immediately to your aid, Bella. May I call you Bella? I overheard your housekeeper addressing you as such, and I must say, it suits you wonderfully."

"You came all the way to Forkton—dragging along your elderly aunt and without your parents' permission _—_ because of my letter?" Bella asked incredulously.

"Well, not only that. I am afraid I have some distressing news."

"Is it Edward? Has he been harmed in some manner?"

"He is fine, for now, other than having to put up with father badgering him not to go through with his drastic intentions. He's in London awaiting an audience with the King to seek approval for his choice of bride."

Bella flinched, and Alice let out a small cry.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I can only imagine how distressed you must have felt upon receiving my letter and believing your true love is planning to marry another. I was quite beside myself on the journey with guilt and worry."

"You have no need to feel either, Alice. It was my choice to refuse Edward's offer. I am determined to make something of my life . . . _alone._ "

"But that's why I'm here." Alice smiled brightly. "So, you don't have to be alone."

"You have come to keep me company?"

"No, I have come to take you to Edward."

"But Edward is to marry Lady Tanya." Bella was bewildered by the cruelty of this strange jest. "It's too late for me to intervene. It would only cause a scandal and add more suffering to our sorrow."

"But that's where you are wrong. Well actually, I'm the one who was wrong, and you have my humble and most sincere apology."

"How were you wrong?"

"Tanya didn't have to marry in a hurry because Edward was impatient or because the earl was worried Edward would change his mind. It is because she is with child."

"Lady Tanya is going to have a baby?"

Alice nodded excitedly. "Apparently, she is not cold and unfeeling like Rosalie at all, which makes me wonder if Rosalie is pretending also, but there's no way of discovering the truth at present since she's gone with Emmett to Ireland. Although I'm sure she is _feeling_ the cold because of the dreary location, which is quite different to her _being_ cold because she lacks feeling, if you understand my meaning."

Bella wasn't at all clear on the meaning behind Alice's tale. All she knew was the thought of Edward lying with the other woman out of passion was quite unbearable.

"But I didn't think Edward was fond of Lady Tanya," she said, one hand clutching at her chest.

"He's not. He loves you. Any fool can see that. Which is why this is such wonderful news."

"Edward loves me, but he must marry Lady Tanya because she is with child, and you think that's wonderful news?"

"Well, that's what the earl wanted to happen and why he was pushing for the wedding to occur quickly to avoid disgrace. My goodness, Father was _not_ impressed with his friend over that, I can tell you."

Bella felt faint.

"I would have thought he'd be more displeased with Edward."

"He's not too happy with him either because he wasn't willing to wait, though at least Edward is trying to do the honourable thing."

"By going to the King to ask permission to marry?"

"Yes." Alice beamed. "But Father received word the King was indisposed with some ailment, so Edward's meeting with the sovereign has been delayed. That's when Father decided to go after him and try to change his mind. Edward is quite determined, so we must hurry if we are to prevent him from making a terrible mistake!"

Bella stared in dismay.

"Alice, it's not a mistake. If Lady Tanya is with child, then the honourable thing for Edward to do is to marry her."

By her calculations, Lady Tanya must be fairly advanced in her confinement, as Edward had not left Worthington Hall while she was in residence. Unless, of course, Tanya had visited on an occasion Bella was unaware of, and she had taken advantage of the opportunity to seduce him.

Bella's anger roused towards her rival at the bitter thought, but then she reminded herself—painfully _—_ Edward must have played his part. His precautions clearly hadn't worked in that instance.

"Bella." Alice spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Edward can't marry Lady Tanya. She was wed to Mr Hornsby, the youngest son of Baron Wilmot, almost a week ago."

"What?" Bella startled. "Why would she do that?"

"Because he's the father of her child, of course. It wasn't as if the earl could pass it off as anyone else's once the deception was uncovered."

"Mr Hornsby is the father of Lady Tanya's baby?"

"Yes. He's very handsome, by all accounts, but not at all suitable to be wed to the daughter of an earl. He's not a lord, has only a very modest living, and was destined for the church. Although I'm not sure if they'll have him now."

"Lady Tanya fell in love with a curate?" Bella's words ended on a squeak.

"I don't think love had anything to do with it."

Alice smirked, the expression reminding Bella so much of Edward she blinked in surprise.

"I don't think Tanya had any intention of ending up the wife of a prospective parson—not that Mr Hornsby seems particularly suitable for the role—or with child for that matter," Alice continued. "Fortunately, Jasper was suspicious about the earl's sudden insistence the wedding occur straight away. He and Edward went to confront Lady Tanya after discovering your true identity. She tried to deny there'd been any impropriety but eventually bowed to pressure and confessed all.

"Edward was furious the earl was intending to pass the babe off as his, and Lord Denali had no choice but to release Edward from his obligation. At the same time, he agreed to support Father's political cause in exchange for Edward's and Jasper's discretion regarding his daughter's _in_ discretion."

Bella's mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out.

"Edward doesn't have to marry Lady Tanya," she eventually whispered.

"That's what I have been trying to tell you."

Alice smiled, though Bella wasn't quite ready to accept her words as gospel. In hindsight, it appeared the conclusions the girl had drawn from the snippets of information she had been told or overheard, and then written in her letter, were vastly incorrect. Bella could not be sure the information she was currently imparting was any more accurate.

"How do you know all this?" she asked, suspicion and hope warring within her.

"Well . . ." Alice leaned in conspiratorially. "After you left, I began to ponder. Even though I was in the dark as to what had gone on between you and my brother, one thing was apparent. Gentlemen treat servants differently than ladies of our class. So, I asked Agatha to enlighten me. At first, she was reluctant to discuss such matters with me, but I can be very persistent when I want something, and she told me everything she knew, which wasn't much. So I had the brilliant idea to ask one of the maids that you had shared a room with what she knew of such things, and she told me everything I wanted to know . . . and a few things I didn't.

"Oh, Bella." Alice reached to pat her arm, her eyes shiny with tears. "I am so sorry about the way my brother treated you though, in his defence, he did have that horrid footman who'd accosted you banished, and then he rescued you from that awful ruffian in the village, riding away with you upon his black stallion. I can't say I blame you for succumbing to his charms after he behaved so gallantly. If I had found myself at risk of violent death and Lord Whitlock had rescued me in such a heroic manner, I am not at all sure I would have been able to resist him either. Although I might be able to now I know what's involved."

Alice pulled a face, and Bella felt a blush heating her cheeks. It appeared that whoever had been called upon to relieve Edward's sister of her ignorance—Bella's money was on Jessica—had spared little in the telling.

"Yes, well." Bella stammered, needing a moment to compose her scattered thoughts. "What I need to know is how you came by your knowledge of Lady Tanya's news, and how you can be sure Edward is free of both her and his obligations to the Earl of Denali?"

"I was at the wedding."

"Lady Tanya's wedding to Mr Hornsby?"

Bella was doubtful Carlisle would risk his daughter being tainted by association to such a scandal.

"It was a condition of the earl's continued support for Father's political aspirations," Alice said. "He is probably hoping that having the Duke and Duchess of Worthington present at the nuptials and allowing their daughter to stand up with the bride, will go some way towards buffering his reputation once news of the scandal becomes common knowledge."

"But how did you learn of Edward's and Jasper's visit to Lady Tanya?"

Alice smiled smugly. "Having discovered what a veritable treasure trove of knowledge and information was lurking right beneath my nose, I asked my maid to talk to Tanya's maid and find out what she knew. And I can tell you, Betsy was a wealth of information."

Bella was tempted to ask if she didn't rightly mean gossip, but as she was currently the grateful recipient of the most wonderful news—even if it came to her via a disreputable process—she refrained.

"So, it is true."

"Yes, yes. That's what I have been trying to tell you. Edward has been released from all obligations, and there is no impediment to Father getting that bill he's so excited about passed through Parliament. Well, other than all the lords, landowners, and politicians who are afraid it will be to their detriment if they can't keep exploiting slaves and child labour on foreign soil. Plus, there could still be a scandal if Edward is disinherited, but there's no need for that now, though we must hurry."

"Edward is free to marry?" Bella interrupted Alice's ramblings.

"As long as the King approves, which is why, as soon as I received your letter containing the astonishing news your mother was a princess and related to our very own sovereign—rendering your ineligibility irrelevant, I am sure—I rushed here to collect you, so we could travel to London to stop Edward from making an unnecessary sacrifice."

Bella's smile faded. "Edward has gone to the King to renounce his titles and heritage, so we can be married."

Startled by the noise of a throat being cleared, both girls looked up to see Bella's father standing in the doorway to the drawing room.

"Papa." Bella stood. "You are awake."

"And a good thing, too." He arched a brow. "Lady Alice, I presume." He bowed in Alice's direction and she rose to offer her curtsy.

"Sir Charles. I have heard many wonderful things about you from my father. It is lovely to finally meet you."

"Likewise, my lady," he said politely, but Bella could tell he was not to be diverted.

"Alice has come to visit me." She stated the obvious, ignoring the outrageous fact the girl had done so without her father's permission and with only her elderly aunt as chaperone.

"Indeed. Before we address that little matter, there is a question I would like answered. Why would the Marquis of Masen deem it necessary to relinquish his titles in order to marry _my_ daughter, a young lady with whom I had been led to believe he had not even passed the time of day?"

 **~I~**

 **Why indeed? And so the fun begins...**

 **xx Elise**

 **PS: I'll try to post tomorrow's chapter a bit earlier. :)**


	33. Stipulations

**This extra chapter comes courtesy of Ren1983, with whom I was chatting in my Facebook group, Elise de Sallier's Stories, along with some other truly lovely ladies. Ren convinced me to sneak in another chapter before she has to go and collect her eldest from school. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 33 - Stipulations**

"Isabella?" her father repeated when the silence following his query lasted for some time.

"Well, it's like this." Alice answered for her, and Bella shot her a grateful look, silently praying the impetuous girl would not say anything to complicate matters further.

"Edward couldn't help but notice Isabella, and he subconsciously discerned she was a lady of quality despite her servant's guise. Being a true gentleman, his protective urges were triggered, and he sought to keep her safe, though from a discreet distance while maintaining perfect propriety, of course."

"Of course."

Her father's dry response did little to boost Bella's confidence.

"It is true, Papa," she said, defending Edward's original intentions towards her while ignoring their eventual outcome. "I didn't want to worry you with such distressing revelations, but I am afraid I encountered some _dangers_ in my role as a maid and pastry chef. Edward was determined to keep me safe. He endeavoured to keep things on a perfectly respectable level, well, respectable for a lord dealing with a servant, I suppose . . ."

"But he fell madly in love with Bella," Alice interjected. "And as soon as he heard she was not a commoner but one of our class, he went straight to the King to renounce his titles, so they can marry."

Bella's father frowned. "I thought you wrote to Isabella that your brother was to marry Lady Tanya Denali?"

"Oh, well, about that." Alice looked uncomfortable. "I may have jumped to a conclusion or two, but I can assure you Edward does _not_ have to marry Lady Tanya—she was married to Mr Hornsby a week ago, but that's another story—and he has most definitely gone to London to see the King about relinquishing his inheritance."

"So, he can marry _my_ daughter?"

Smiling broadly, Alice nodded.

"You have said nothing of this since your return, Isabella. Has the man even proposed?"

"Before I left Worthington Hall, but I refused."

"You don't want to marry him?"

"No, I do!"

"But she didn't want Edward to have to give up his titles and inheritance on account of her not thinking she was suitable," Alice said. "Bella thought he had to marry Lady Tanya to ensure the Earl of Denali's support for the important bill my father is trying to get passed through the House of Lords—but he didn't—and now we know that Bella is more than suitable to marry Edward on account of her mother having been a French princess. So we really must hurry to London to stop him from making a terrible mistake."

Bella's father eyed them both for a long moment before speaking.

"Lady Alice, thank you so much for your elucidating comments, but now I think it is time for me to speak with my daughter in private. Mrs Waters will show you to your room, as I am sure you would like a chance to freshen up after your long journey. We can discuss this further over dinner."

"Of course, Sir Charles," Alice said. "But I think I had best go check on Great Aunt Mildred first. It's probably time for her to wake from her afternoon nap, and she can be a little troublesome when she doesn't know where she is."

With that, Alice curtsied and departed, leaving Bella to explain her comments and the outrageous behaviour that had precipitated them. Groaning, her father shook his head when she finished her explanation.

"I think I shall leave Carlisle to deal with his daughter." He slumped down in his favourite chair. "But you and I need to have a talk."

Leaning forward, he reached to take hold of her hand, his expression surprisingly gentle.

"Bella." He used her childhood nickname, his voice sounding gruff. "I might not say the words very often, but you know I love you dearly, don't you?"

"Yes, Papa. And I love you, also."

"Then I hope you know you can trust me. Whatever happened while you were away _,_ I will not blame you or be angry, I promise."

The lump that appeared in Bella's throat at his words made speech impossible for a moment.

"I was so afraid, Papa," she whispered. "I overheard the news Lord Hunter had taken possession of Swan Manor, and I thought that meant . . . that you were . . ."

Gulping back a sob, it took a few seconds before she could continue.

Her father patted her hand. "It is all right. Take your time."

"I tried to fulfil my promise to stay hidden and keep my identity a secret, but things kept going wrong."

She saw only concern on her father's face, not condemnation _yet_. Straightening her shoulders, she uttered the words that would change her father's good opinion of her forever.

"Edward and I became friends. He offered me his protection, and I accepted."

Her father sat back, the colour draining from his complexion.

"Of course, I did not understand the complexities of the arrangement," she rushed to add. "I had come to care for him, and since I wasn't managing to stay safe on my own I thought . . . I thought . . ."

"You thought it was a sensible idea to accept his offer while you awaited Carlisle's return. But the young rogue tricked you into placing yourself in a compromising position and forced himself upon you."

"What? No! It wasn't like that. Edward offered to find me a position as a governess or even set me up in a cottage of my own, but I refused. I thought all hope was lost, and I _wanted_ to be with him," she finished on a whisper.

Releasing the breath he was holding, Sir Charles closed his eyes.

"I am so sorry, Papa. Please don't be angry with Edward. He believed I was a servant, orphaned, and without protection. He thought it was the only way for us to be together."

There were questions she wanted answered also, so she boldly continued.

"He wanted to set me up as his mistress, the woman he loved but kept hidden while he was forced to marry some poor, ignorant but more suitable lady who—if she was anything like me—would have been instructed to deny all feeling and affection and submit to her husband out of duty."

"Who told you that?" her father asked, the anger in his eyes fading.

"Lady Mallory when she was helping me prepare for my debut. I wouldn't have remained as Edward's mistress, Papa, not once he was married. I was planning to try to sell Mama's pearls and disappear, but then . . ."

"But then Carlisle returned home, thank God. I assume his son offered for you once he discovered the gravity of his error?"

"Yes, but I refused. I am sorry, Papa, but I would rather remain unwed than spend the rest of my days trying to live a lie knowing my husband is spending time in the arms of another woman, a woman whom he does not expect to be made of stone."

"Not all marriages are as you describe, my dear," her father said gently. "You can be sure I did not demand your mother behave in any way other than that which she was comfortable."

"You didn't keep a mistress, Papa?"

"Never! And I do not condone such behaviour, even if it is considered the norm by many in our sphere. I'm very sorry you had to learn of such things this way. If your mother were alive, I am sure she would have educated you in a sensitive manner, but without her, I was at a bit of a loss. I can assure you I had no intention of seeing you wed to a man who would disrespect you. I just wasn't sure how to broach the subject. In fact, I had hoped it wouldn't be necessary."

"You didn't expect me to wed?"

Bella knew her colouring was considered less than ideal by the _ton_ , but she was dismayed to discover her father thought so little of her marital prospects.

"Of course, I did. A delightful young lady such as yourself? I was merely content to wait for some suitable young man to fall head over heels in love with you—as I did with your mother—and then I would have informed him, in no uncertain terms, of the conduct I expected in a future son-in-law."

"Oh!"

Bella didn't know whether to laugh or cry at her father's words, considering how badly things had turned out due to her ignorance.

He leaned forward once again. "What I need to know is whether or not you would like to marry Carlisle's son, conditional on his guarantee of treating you with the respect you deserve? Keeping in mind, if this ever gets out, your chances of making another match will be greatly reduced."

Bella dropped her head in shame at her father's pronouncement.

"I am not blaming you, my dear, just pointing out the reality of the situation."

"I understand. I do love Edward, and I believe he loves me also."

"He does appear to be willing to make considerable sacrifices for the opportunity to win your hand," her father said wryly. "Are you sure you want to marry a disgraced and disinherited lord?"

"I would marry Edward under any circumstances if he would love me the way you loved Mama. But I wouldn't mind foregoing the disgrace, and I dread to think what disinheritance would do to Edward. Plus, there is the matter of our having to live abroad."

"Well, then. It appears we must hightail it to London to stop your young man from making an even bigger fool of himself than he already has," her father said.

"So, you will agree to Edward and my being wed if he meets your stipulations?"

"Of course, I will, if that's what you want." Her father smiled indulgently. "But I would rather you didn't let him know straightaway. I am of a mind to give him a good thrashing. But since I am not yet up to full strength—and I imagine you would be a tad upset if I shot the blighter—making him grovel on his knees before his prospective father-in-law will have to suffice."

 **~I~**

 **I do have a soft spot for Charlie, in all his incarnations.**

 **I'll catch you all again in about eleven hours.**

 **xx Elise**


	34. Liberties

**Happy Weekend Everyone!**

 **I loved your response to last chapter, and I'm so glad you liked Charlie. Maybe it's because I'm older, and I've done the parenting thing and have now moved on to grand-parenting, but I wanted him to be a good father. For those who are enjoying seeing him developing feelings for Lady Penelope, you might like to have a read of Abruptly Chagrined's lovely one shot, 'Passion for Mustache'n'. It's fun and very relatable to me, as my DH has a mustache and beard (well, more of a goatie now that he has gone grey, as otherwise he'd look like Santa), and I do have a thing for a man with facial hair. ;)**

 **Ohtobeyoung mentioned the theme music to the Lone Ranger would be appropriate for the dash to London, and I thought that sounded perfect! Of course, the trip of a matter of hours for us by car would have taken them several days by horse and carriage, so we have a nice little interlude in this chapter where Bella answers some of Alice's questions. As it's Bella doing the explaining, it's a little less confusing than when Alice has charge of the conversation. That girl's picture should go alongside 'convoluted' in the dictionary!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 34 - Liberties**

The two-day journey to London seemed to take a lot longer, though Bella needed every moment to prepare for the coming momentous events. She could barely contain her emotions. Her longing to see Edward competed with excitement at the news she had to share with him, anxiety they would be too late to prevent him from making a dreadful mistake and fear her hopes would prove to be unfounded. She didn't doubt he still cared for her, enough to give up everything so they could be together, but she worried that once he encountered her as a legitimate member of society he might have a change of heart. Her demeanour when they had been together in no way resembled that of a proper young lady.

Edward had been quite clear the behaviour a gentleman might appreciate in his mistress was entirely different to what he expected from his wife. Bella couldn't bear it if he came to despise the very things that he had once purported to love and desire about her. She would need to be sure he wanted her for who she was, _as she was_ , before she agreed to his proposal. Not that the alternative was at all appealing. Having had a small taste of it, life without Edward was bleak indeed.

The Swan's carriage had been stolen by Lord Hunter and not yet replaced, so Sir Charles, Alice, and Bella shared the large Worthington carriage with her father's valet and Angela. It made the opportunity for anything other than superficial conversation limited, but they weren't crowded, having left Alice's maid behind to care for Great Aunt Mildred. Mrs Waters had tut-tutted over the old woman's befuddled mental state, the poor dear being in dire need of a rest after her journey.

Bella received the impression Carlisle must coddle Alice a great deal, as she didn't seem at all worried about his reaction to her escapade. Bella would have been terrified to admit to such foolhardy actions, but then again, her father had surprised her, to no end, by his compassionate response to her own, far more outrageous disclosures.

The upcoming reunion with Penelope appeared to have bolstered her father's reserve, and he coped surprisingly well with the journey, his sleep blessedly free from nightmares and his nerves steady. Bella was happy for him and grateful his mind was not as focused on her indiscretions as it might otherwise have been, or so she hoped. The way he glowered out of the window on occasion had her worried about what he might be planning to say or do to Edward.

At least he had promised not to shoot him.

Alice, she soon discovered, was irrepressible. She was determined to have her questions answered—questions of an intimate nature. But, to Bella's relief she, at least, had the good sense to wait until they were alone in their large shared bed the first night of their journey to begin her bombardment.

"The entire business sounds so awkward and uncomfortable and messy and, well, mortifying," Alice said when Bella agreed to tell her what she knew of intimate relations.

"I imagine it could be all those things if the couple did not share tender feelings."

"It wasn't like that for you and Edward?"

Bella's cheeks blazed, but she fought the urge to pull the covers over her head. Rolling on her side to face her new friend, she wondered how much—or how little—she should disclose. She worried if she was too detailed in her descriptions, she might shock or frighten Alice even more than she already was. But if she let the girl know how truly wonderful lovemaking could be, she might be responsible for contributing to her moral downfall.

As Bella considered what level of censorship she should use, it dawned on her she was behaving no differently than all the other individuals, well-meaning and otherwise, who conspired to keep young women ignorant and afraid. Alice was of an age to be married and deserved to know the truth, so she could make reasoned choices about matters that would profoundly affect her future.

"No, it wasn't like that with Edward," Bella said.

"What was it like?"

"It was wonderful." Her breath hitched at the memories she allowed to surface. "At first, I just wanted to be with Edward as often as possible. Because he believed we were not of the Same class, we were able to be together without all the restrictions that accompany obeying the social niceties. Although I must admit to being taken aback by his colourful language."

"Edward used colourful language?" Alice's eyes widened. "Oh, you mean like the words he, Emmett, and Jasper used the day Father introduced you as Sir Charles's daughter?"

"Yes. It's quite shocking the way gentlemen behave when they believe there are no ladies present. All their talk about 'protecting the fairer sex from life's unpleasantness' doesn't seem to apply to females of the lower classes. Though I do imagine they'd be more cautious in their manner around some of the senior staff members, such as Mrs Cope."

"Or their nannies. Ours would box Edward's ears if he used bad language in her presence, and she's quite ancient." Alice giggled. "But tell me more."

Bella let her mind wander back to some of her earliest encounters with Edward, a soft smile curling her lips.

"My feelings for Edward grew very quickly. There was something in the way he looked at me, his eyes intense and heated. And he would take _liberties_."

"Liberties?"

"He would stand close—far closer than propriety allows—and brush his fingers down my cheek or stroke my hair. My heart would pound so loudly I would blush for fear he could hear it. It was quite astonishing how he affected me with just a simple caress. My entire body would freeze in anticipation of his touch and then melt at the reality, as I was flooded with warmth and the most delicious tingles."

"Oh my." Alice sighed.

"The first time Edward kissed me, I didn't want it to end."

"Jasper kissed the back of my hand once," Alice said shyly. "I swear I felt his lips right through the fabric of my glove."

Bella smiled at her words, touched by the innocence they revealed. But then her smile faded, as she considered how to describe what had come next. Edward's and her kisses had not remained chaste for long, soon involving lips and tongues and the wondrous taste of desire. The feel of his bare skin sliding like warm silk over her naked flesh had been a revelation. The weight of his muscular body pressing hers into the mattress, his kisses, and caresses had all taken her to places she'd not known existed. The memories were more precious to Bella than the jewels her father had insisted they bring with them to London, but she wasn't sure how to put them into words.

The two girls had already discussed the instructions given to young ladies in preparation for marriage and how young gentlemen were clearly not held to the Same standard. Alice's conversations with Jessica had increased her understanding of what the vague and contradictory phrases referenced. But there was so much more to lovemaking than either a crude accounting or ambiguous moral directives could reveal.

"I knew it was wrong not to protest, since we were not married," Bella said. "But it felt so wonderful. I tried to resist, but I believed all hope for my future was lost. Edward said he cared for me and offered to protect me in exchange for my surrender."

"Don't be ashamed. You had no choice."

"But I did," Bella whispered. "Edward said he would find me another place of employment, but I didn't want to leave him and, truth be told, I didn't want him to stop."

"Even when he did what Jessica says men do to women to make them with child and for the man's pleasure?" Alice grimaced.

"Especially then." The memory of the first time Edward had joined his body with Bella's caused her pulse to race.

"I still can't believe people do such bizarre things to each other. It sounds so unseemly and _painful_."

"It was a little uncomfortable at first, but when there is love, gentleness, and desire, it's truly amazing and not _only_ for the man's pleasure."

"It feels nice?" Alice's gaze flitted away then returned to meet Bella's, her curiosity greater than her embarrassment.

"Oh, much better than nice."

"Do you think it would still be nice if you had to pretend you didn't feel anything, lying still and silent like they say a young bride is supposed to?"

"Maybe." Bella shrugged. "But I think it would be very difficult having to hide one's natural responses. It would surely lead to terrible heartache and despondency."

"Resentment, too," Alice said.

Bella nodded sadly.

"Edward took great care when we made love. He was patient and determined for me to reach the pinnacle of my pleasure before he took his own."

"Pinnacle of pleasure?" Alice's eyes widened.

"It's the most amazing feeling," Bella whispered, an undeniable tinge of awe in her voice. "A type of ecstasy that transports you to a special place of rapture inside your own body. An intimate place you somehow share with your beloved."

"Do you think anyone can feel it?"

"I imagine so," Bella said uncertainly. "Though I think many ladies must never experience it, their senses stifled by the repressive instructions they receive before going to their marriage beds. If they did, they wouldn't be so disdainful or afraid, and they would not perpetuate such an awful state of affairs as currently exists."

Alice looked doubtful but urged her to continue.

"Edward was very gentle in the beginning until my fears and shyness abated, passionate and even forceful when I was experienced enough to appreciate his actions. But always, he was loving."

"And you don't think a husband of our class would be like that with his bride?"

"Not if he was following the Same instructions we were given." Bella sighed. "Edward said married couples don't remove their night gowns to conserve their dignity. The act is performed as perfunctorily as possible to cause the least distress to the dutiful but reluctant wife."

"That sounds awful in comparison to what you described."

Nodding soberly, Bella couldn't help but agree.

"Could you imagine having to _lie_ with someone you didn't love or even know very well?" Alice asked, no doubt imagining the marriages many young ladies of their class had arranged for them.

Shuddering, Bella was unable to think of appropriate words with which to reply. From the bleakness in Alice's eyes, she saw her reaction had been response enough.

"I care for Jasper a great deal," Alice whispered. "And I wouldn't want to marry anyone else . . ."

"But?"

"But I can't bear the thought of him being unfaithful or of having to hide my feelings from him."

Bella felt exactly the Same way about Edward, and she reached to clasp Alice's hand in hers.

"Then we must convince our foolish lords to ignore society's ridiculous expectations and live happily ever after with the ladies of their dreams . . . us."

"Somehow, I don't think Edward will be difficult to convince." Alice giggled.

"Oh, I hope not, Alice, I truly hope not," Bella murmured.

 **~I~**

 **I love seeing their friendship budding. Did you like Bella's explanation for the 'Pinnacle of Pleasure'? It's hard to believe in this day and age, but I had no idea about the magical 'O' when I was young and newly wed. It was quite the pleasant surprise. ;)**

 **xx Elise**


	35. Audience

**Thank you for all your lovely reviews. I'm glad you've enjoyed the multiple chapters. I probably won't be back until this time tomorrow, as we're celebrating my darling hubby's 60th birthday tomorrow with all the family. Wish me luck! (I do love my family, but like most families, the dynamics can be challenging sometimes.)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 35 - Audience**

London was every bit as crowded and polluted as Bella had been warned to expect but enthralling nonetheless. By the time they reached the exclusive area of the city where Cullen House was located, the closely packed buildings and teeming streets had given way to wide, tree-lined roads and impressive homes overlooking manicured parks. Even so, Carlisle's London home stood head and shoulders above its neighbours. Like Worthington Hall, it could have easily passed for a royal residence, and Bella was plagued by feelings of unworthiness.

She feared she wouldn't be able to live up to the standards of behaviour required of a marchioness, that was if Edward was still the Marquis of Masen. For all Bella knew, he may have already been stripped of his titles.

Guiltily, she recognised a small part of her would be relieved if it was too late to stop that from occurring. A quiet life in the country spent far from the _ton's_ rigorous expectations sounded awfully tempting, though the thought of being forced to flee abroad was not. They had enough problems to face without adding his catastrophic fall from grace and banishment to the Antipodes to the mix.

"Lady Alice, please wait," Sir Charles called, stepping down from the vehicle, but the girl ignored his directive and rushed up to the front door of the imposing mansion.

Bella gave her father a rueful smile, and he shrugged. It was Alice's family home, after all, and she seemed used to getting her own way.

They reached the entrance located beneath a massive portico just as the door was opened by a butler who could have passed for Mr Henson's sibling.

"Lady Alice." The servant startled. "Aren't you supposed to be at Worthington Hall awaiting your new governess's arrival?"

"Yes, yes." Alice demurred with a wave of her hand. "Something of an urgent nature came up, and I couldn't wait for Miss Tompkins. I made the journey with Father's very dear friend, Sir Charles Swan, and his daughter, the heroic Miss Isabella Swan. I'm sure you have read all about them in the papers." She gave the half-truth by way of explanation and introduction.

The butler's momentary discomposure was replaced with the impeccable reserve expected of one of his position in the household. With a bow in their directions, he calmly ushered Bella and her father into the grand entrance before leading them through to a large drawing room.

"Are the Duke and Duchess at home?" Alice asked once they had taken their seats and refreshments had been called for.

"I'm afraid not, my lady. His Grace was meeting some colleagues at his club before going on to Parliament for the afternoon sitting, and Her Grace had an invitation to luncheon with Lady Bunton."

"What of my brother, Lord Masen?"

With the air of one imparting news of considerable importance, the butler intoned, "The Marquis is at the palace. An audience with the King, I believe."

Bella gasped, and her father patted her arm.

"Don't fret. A decision like this won't be made in haste," he said before addressing the butler. "Is this the first time Lord Masen has gone to the palace?"

"No, sir. He has visited daily since arriving a little over two weeks ago. However, His Grace was heard saying to Her Grace just this morning that he thought today was the day the King would make his wishes known."

"Then we're too late," Bella whispered.

"Not necessarily." Her father rose to his feet. "The King is a social fellow. I doubt he'll be in too much of a hurry to get down to business, though I do believe _some_ haste is required."

"You have met King William?" she asked as they rushed for the door.

"Briefly, back when he was a rear-admiral. A reasonable fellow, if I recall, certainly easier to deal with than his predecessor, King George. I met _him_ when I received my knighthood, but that was many years ago when he was still Prince Regent."

He shuddered, and Bella struggled to imagine her serious-minded father, with his love of bucolic pastimes, being honoured at the court of the flamboyant if deeply unpopular sovereign. It was almost as difficult to conceive she was related to royalty.

"Did Mama ever meet King George?" she asked as they climbed back into the carriage.

"Her parents intended for her to visit the English Court, but the Terror began before she was old enough to do so. She remained behind in Forkton when I received my knighthood, as she was indisposed at the time."

Bella imagined her father was alluding to one of the failed confinements her mother had endured before Bella's birth.

"Besides," he added dryly, "I had no desire to see her exposed to the goings on of the Prince Regent's court. I had a quiet word with one of the head courtiers at the time, informing him she was alive and explaining our decision to retire quietly to the country."

"And she never met the current King?"

Her father shook his head, and Bella's fingers rose to the pearl necklace around her neck, wondering if the sovereign would believe their tale.

"For luck," she had told her father that morning when his eyes had widened at the sight of her wearing them.

"You won't need it," he had said. "You look every bit as beautiful as your mother did the last time she wore those pearls."

Bella had been touched by the compliment. She had chosen her most fetching outfit, a pale blue gown and darker blue pelisse, and Angela had worked wonders with her hair. If only she felt more confident about meeting her distant and elderly cousin, King William. Having Edward by her side—as was her hope—would make all the difference.

Ben took their instructions to make all haste seriously, and Bella grabbed for a hanging strap as the carriage careened around a corner.

"We're here." Her father declared after a blessedly short time.

Bella stared out the window at the majestic palace that seemed to stretch for miles behind a high, wrought-iron fence.

"They will let us in, won't they?"

Her father sent her a reassuringly look before addressing the guard who approached the carriage window.

"Lady Alice Cullen, daughter of the Duke of Worthington, Sir Charles Swan, and Miss Isabella Swan. We have urgent business within the palace."

The guard studied them all closely, and Bella gripped her shaking hands. They had come too far to be turned away now.

"Of course, sir, ladies. You are expected." The fierce-looking soldier signalled the huge gates to be opened.

"We are?" Bella murmured in surprise as they drove inside the royal compound.

"I believe we are about to discover what the King thinks of my brother's choice of bride," Alice said excitedly.

"Oh, dear." Bella felt faint, wondering how much Edward might have told her illustrious cousin.

"Don't worry." Alice smiled. "Once his Majesty meets you, he couldn't possibly find you lacking. I'm sure he'll give his blessing to Edward's and your nuptials immediately."

"That would be preferable to your father's plan to sacrifice my daughter's future to political expediency." Sir Charles's expression was grim, reminding Bella how very cross he still was with Carlisle for not insisting his son do the right thing and marry her immediately.

"It's a very important political cause." Bella defended his old friend's actions even though they were to her personal detriment. As much as she wanted a future with Edward, her conscience would not allow it to be at the expense of the abolishment of slavery throughout the Empire. If the King didn't approve of her, she would be back to square one, having to convince Edward, once again, that they must sacrifice their personal happiness for the greater good.

A sudden thought crossed Bella's mind, and she turned to her father in dismay.

"The King will never approve when he discovers I am both Lord Hunter's 'runaway bride' and was forced to masquerade as a servant. I am ruined on either count."

"Not at all, my dear. Lord Hunter is the villain of the piece, not you."

"I agree," Alice said. "Once the King sees how lovely you are, he'll deem Edward fortunate to have won your heart."

" _Or_ he may decide to disinherit your brother to teach him a lesson for taking advantage of a gentle lady who was under extreme duress. The blighter deserves far worse, if you ask me."

"Papa!" Bella clutched his arm. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him."

"I promised I wouldn't _shoot_ him."

Before Bella could press him on the issue, the carriage came to a halt. Once they had been ushered inside an enormous foyer, her father spoke quietly with the head steward. He explained their need to speak with the Marquis of Masen who, they had been told on good authority, was awaiting an audience with the sovereign.

"This way, sir, ladies." The steward ushered them into a drawing room more opulent than any Bella had ever seen before. Even Alice's eyes widened as she took in the rich furnishings, enormous paintings and statues, and sheer size of the extensively gilded room.

"We shall need to see Lord Masen first, but would it be possible for you to alert the King to our presence and request an audience?" her father asked, and the steward's eyebrows rose.

"Certainly, sir."

The minutes ticked by uncomfortably, Bella practically leaping from her seat when the steward returned and directed them to follow. As they walked the magnificent corridors of the palace, her stomach tied itself into a knot of apprehension.

Then she saw Edward.

He was standing outside a set of enormous double doors, his hands clasped behind his back. When the doors slowly opened, she gasped, afraid they would be too late.

Forgetting etiquette, protocol, and anything else that stood between her and the man she loved, she ran towards him.

"Edward!" she called, and he turned to face her.

"Bella?" He took a stumbling step then started to run. "Bella!"

He quickly closed the distance between them with his long strides, and she threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck as he spun her in a circle.

"Oh, Edward."

Oblivious to their audience, his lips found hers in a kiss of such pent-up longing, Bella almost swooned at the onslaught of emotion. The world faded away, and everything was Edward. His warmth. His touch. His taste. His scent. The feel of his body pressed tightly against hers was everything she had longed for and everything she had feared she would never experience again.

"My Bella," he whispered against her lips as he lowered her slowly to the ground.

"My _daughter_."

Her father's voice was gruff with emotion, and she looked up to see he had placed a hand on Edward's shoulder.

A deep but delighted laugh drew Bella's attention, and she saw a man who could only be King William standing not five feet away. Edward turned to face him, tucking her protectively under his arm.

"My cousin, _Princess_ Isabella, I do believe."

The sovereign made his announcement with undisguised glee, and Edward's knees buckled.

 **~I~**

 **Poor Edward is in for some shocks...and has some serious grovelling to do. I have to admit I think he deserves to be made feel a tad uncomfortable, but I did enjoy their reunion. ;)**

 **xx Elise**


	36. Alliance

**Thank you for all the best wishes for my darling hubby's 60th birthday. We had a lovely lunch with family and friends, and then he watched his beloved Aussie Rules football team win their game, so he's a very happy chappy. :) I, on the other hand, am exhausted and almost didn't post a chapter tonight, as I'm ready to crawl into bed at 7pm! However, I took a moment to read your lovely reviews, and I just had to share this next chapter before I call it a night.**

 **I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter with it's New Moon inspired running scene and passionate kiss. (Ohtobeyoung imagined 2001's A Space Odyssey, which I'll have to go listen to...and will then have stuck in my head!). A few of you felt that Edward had sufficiently redeemed himself with his intention to sacrifice everything to be with Bella, while a few others would like to see him squirm, and one guest reviewer wants him flogged! (Seriously...flogged?). Archy12 asked if Sir Charles had been knighted to deserve the 'Sir', and I can't honestly recall...but I think he was for his efforts in the war. (I'll double check when I'm not so tired). Lillybelle begged me to post the entire story, but it would take _hours!_ It only costs $1.99 on Amazon if you're desperate. ;) Lastly, the wonderfully poetic Rebadams7 had this to say, "Princesse Isabella de Bourbon. Mike drop. Or herald drop as you will." Love it! To everyone else who sent me a review, thank you so, so much. :D**

 **xxx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 36 - Alliance**

Edward sagged against Bella's side. He was too heavy for her to hold, and for a horrible moment, she thought he was going to fall to the ground taking her with him. Alice squealed and flapped her arms, which was no use at all. To Bella's relief, her father stepped forward and grabbed Edward's other arm to keep him upright. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, or at least the strength in his legs, but his face was terribly pale.

"Are you all right?" she whispered.

He looked at her with a wild expression. "Princess?"

"Daughter of a Princess." Bella didn't think that necessarily made her one also, but she wasn't about to contradict the King.

Edward laced his fingers with hers, but she was in no fit state to savour the sublime sensation, mortified as she was by what they had just done.

Approaching Edward ahead of the others would have been unseemly. But running to him, throwing herself in his arms, and kissing him with unrestrained passion in front of her father—as if that wasn't bad enough—and the sovereign ruler of the Empire? Bella doubted there was a degree of scandalous behaviour to cover her actions. A whimper escaped her throat, and her father released Edward and moved to stand on her other side, linking their arms.

The King harrumphed, and Bella met his commanding gaze.

"Your Majesty." Her father and Edward made their obeisance, addressing the King in unison. Alice curtsied gracefully, and Bella followed suit, not quite as gracefully considering she was still holding her father's arm and Edward's hand.

"Lady Alice." The King smiled in the girl's direction. "It is a pleasure to meet another of my many young cousins. Why don't you run along to the Queen's quarters? I'm sure she would be delighted to entertain you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Alice looked disappointed to be dismissed but turned without complaint to follow the steward the King signalled to escort her.

"Sir Charles. How lovely to see you again after so many years?" The Sovereign addressed Bella's father. "Somewhat different circumstances than the last time. Not a battlefield in sight, though I hear you have been in the wars?"

"In a sense, Your Majesty." He acknowledged with a wry nod.

"I am sorry to hear of your difficulties, but it's good to see you are on the mend and have been reunited with your lovely daughter. Although, it would appear you have been keeping some rather interesting secrets. _Hmm_?"

The King did not wait for a reply, directing his attention to Edward.

"Well, Lord Masen, there's no faulting your taste. But now I have seen the object of your affection in person, I cannot understand how you mistook this particular young lady for a _servant_. She is not only a vision of loveliness but related to half the royal houses of Europe!"

Edward flinched but kept silent.

"My dear young cousin." The King's smile when he addressed Bella was gentle. "You are the very likeness of your mother. I am only sorry she's not alive for me to compliment her on her delightful daughter in person."

"I didn't think you had ever met my mother, Your Majesty," Bella said.

"I visited the French court before all the troubles began." His expression sobered momentarily before a slight smile curved his mouth. "If my memory serves me, she was a somewhat precocious child. A trait she might have passed on to her daughter?"

Inwardly squirming, Bella could do naught but nod.

"As for how I was able to recognise the likeness, come with me, and I shall show you."

The King presented his arm for her to take, eyeing Edward until he released her. Her father patted her arm, and Bella looked to him in alarm.

"You have nothing to fear, my dear," the King said. "I would just appreciate a few moments for us to become acquainted. And I'm sure your father would like a few moments to acquaint himself with Lord Masen."

After bowing in her direction, Edward turned to face her father with the look of one condemned.

Grateful for her father's earlier promise—and the fact he could not have brought a weapon into the palace if he had wanted to—Bella was a little concerned by his pallor. His endurance was improving day by day, but she worried the rigours of the journey combined with her outrageous behaviour had taken their toll.

"Don't worry. I am sure Lord Masen will take good care of your father," the King said, accurately discerning the source of her anxiety. One of them, at any rate.

Bella allowed the aged sovereign to escort her across the throne room, trying her best not to stare like a girl in short dresses at her extravagant surroundings. They made their way towards another set of carved doors that led to a series of luxurious drawing rooms before coming to a halt in a long, wide room lined with portraits in gilded frames.

"The rogues' gallery." He smiled ruefully. "Ancestors and relatives going back to William the Conqueror, my namesake, and beyond."

"It's very impressive, Your Majesty."

Bella wasn't sure of the protocol required for conversing with one's sovereign, as it wasn't a topic Miss Brewer had covered in any detail. All the governess had said Bella would have to do at her presentation was curtsy then move on when signalled. She had expected to be a part of a group of girls of minimal rank presented en masse, not engaging in private discussions with the King about their mutual ancestry.

Stifling a sigh, Bella concluded that while she may have made a right mess of things in her handling of their recent affairs, her father's penchant for leaving her in the dark hadn't helped matters.

"You must be wondering how I was able to recognise you." The King gestured with a sweep of his arm to a painting of Bella's mother standing with a very handsome couple whom she assumed must be the grandparents she'd never met.

The older woman, also a red head, was wearing the triple-stranded pearl necklace that currently adorned Bella's neck, and her hand rose to touch it reverently.

"Proof positive, if any was needed, wouldn't you say?"

Bella nodded, momentarily speechless. Releasing her arm, the King gestured for her to approach the large painting. Running her gaze over the canvas, she mentally recorded every detail. The small portrait of her mother her father had commissioned a visiting artist to paint was the only picture they had of her and held pride of place in their drawing room. Fortunately, Mr Waters had thought to hide it, otherwise she imagined Lord Hunter would have taken it with him when he'd stripped the rooms of almost everything of value.

"Thank you for showing me this," Bella said sincerely. "Do you have any idea how old my mother was when this was painted?"

"Thirteen or fourteen, or so my steward informed me. Just before the Terror. The artist took it with him away from the palace to complete, which is how it came to be here and not destroyed by the revolutionists."

"My father would appreciate a viewing, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course, though I imagine he might like some privacy when he first sees it. I have been informed he was widowed some years back, but I remember your father as a single-minded young man. I wouldn't be surprised if he loved your mother quite _recklessly_ , a trait I suspect he may have passed on to his daughter. He certainly went to great lengths to keep his bride safe, at least, I presume that was the reason he did not come forward and announce she had survived the uprising. It wouldn't surprise me if his feelings have not faded overly, despite the passing of time."

"Your Highness is very astute in his observations and most considerate."

"A sovereign must put the welfare of his subjects ahead of his own or so, my third cousin, the Marquis of Masen's father, has informed me on numerous occasions. He likes to badger me with his social justice rhetoric whenever I'm in the mood for a good debate, even when I'm not, come to think of it. But enough of that. It's time we discussed our current predicament."

The King escorted Bella to a grouping of chairs and directed her to take a seat.

"Lord Masen was glowing in his commendations of you, but there are laws governing who may and may not marry so close to the throne. I was planning to refuse him when a steward overheard his use of your name and approached me with an extraordinary tale. You can imagine my dismay when I realised Sir Charles Swan's heroic young daughter was, in fact, a distant cousin.

"It's most regrettable I was not able to prevent your recent time of distress, Lady Isabella. I can only imagine the indignities you have endured, fearing your father murdered, having to flee halfway across the country virtually unaided, and then forced to masquerade as a servant."

He shuddered, and Bella ducked her head to hide her smile. She had heard King William was a practical fellow, even taking a hackney coach on occasion if his coach was delayed. But it appeared, despite his years as an admiral in the navy, there were lines he was unwilling to cross.

"Masen was circumspect in his attempts to protect your reputation," he continued. "But reading between the lines, I came to the conclusion—one he did not deny—that he had taken terrible advantage of a vulnerable young lady whom he had falsely assumed was not of a suitably high enough station to be his marchioness. Is that correct?"

"It's not all his fault, Your Majesty. Our feelings for one another are mutual."

"Be that as it may," the Kind said crossly. "I have half a mind to strip him of his titles and have him thrown in the Tower!"

Bella's hand rose to her throat at the image of Edward disgraced and imprisoned. She was about to beg for the King's mercy, but he raised a hand.

"However, I have decided that won't be necessary. His willingness to forsake all to make amends for his deplorable behaviour was rather impressive. And the enthusiastic greeting I just witnessed leads me to believe you would not be opposed to the match?"

"Not at all." Bella decided not to mention there were still matters she needed to discuss with Edward about the nature of any union between them.

"I pray you will forgive me for my earlier lapse in good manners," she added. "When I left Worthington Hall, I thought I would never see Lord Masen again. I refused his offer of marriage, as I believed it would be to his detriment. When I learned I might be of a sufficient status for us to marry, I was in a rush to prevent him from relinquishing his titles. Then when I saw him, I completely forgot myself and . . ."

"There, there." The King halted her rambling account. "Despite all evidence to the contrary, I do recall what it is like to be young and swept up in the moment."

"You are too kind, Your Majesty."

"Not at all, and by that, I mean most people would say _not at all_. But what is this you _might_ be a suitable match for a marquis? The burning question is whether a marquis is of a high enough rank for you, my dear, and what exact rank I should bestow upon you."

"Rank?"

"Yes. If you had been raised in the French Court, you'd have been a princess—a duchess, at the very least. Although your mother did marry a long way beneath herself, so maybe not." He frowned. "I'm not saying your father isn't a worthy gentleman, but you know how these things go."

Bella nodded.

"If his grandmother had married more highly, Lord Masen would have been a prince. Once he becomes the Duke of Worthington, not that I'm wishing any harm to befall his father, of course. Although the blasted man does seem intent on setting my empire on its head with his outrageous notions." Shaking his head, the King appeared to lose his train of thought.

"Once Lord Masen becomes the Duke of Worthington?" Bella prompted.

"Yes, exactly. Then the two of you could marry, you would become a duchess of some note, though not as highly placed as a royal duchess or princess, of course. But as it stands, he is merely a marquis—not as impressive as either duke or prince—and not set to inherit for decades. To make up for my regrettable familial neglect, I think I must bestow a title upon you, countess of somewhere or other I expect, or I might even create a duchy to give you. I shall have to check the legalities, but I am sure I can come up with something. Then we really must find you a prince to wed."

Bella wrung her hands. "Becoming a marchioness is more than enough for me, Your Majesty."

"That may be, but it is the generally accepted duty of the female members of the family to marry foreign princes and such to strengthen alliances. Helps to avoid wars, which is a good thing in my book."

Appalled by the direction of the King's thoughts, Bella decided now was not the time for prevarication.

"About the nature of Lord Masen's and my relationship." She dropped her gaze.

"Don't be afraid to speak plainly, my dear."

The King's tone was gentle, and she looked up to see him watching her closely.

"I'm not easily shocked," he continued. "Nor am I as prudish as the dowagers who terrorise young debutantes and the rest of the _ton_ for that matter."

He indicated she should continue, and Bella chose her words carefully.

"There is a certain expectation placed on a young lady approaching matrimony, Your Majesty, one I am no longer able to meet _._ I wouldn't want to cause a misunderstanding between Great Britain and one of her allies if it was believed I had married under false pretences. I am sure a crown prince would only want a lady of the highest calibre for his bride."

"There is that." The King frowned. "No one would think anything of it if you were a man. I cohabited with my mistress for twenty years, and the _ton_ barely raised a brow. Although I must admit it took a while to find a bride willing to take on my ten illegitimates."

Bella's mouth gaped.

 _Ten?_

"There is such a lot of credence placed on one's bride being virginal, not that I'm criticising you for doing what you needed to survive under trying circumstances. You are of the aristocracy, Isabella. We _make_ the rules, so we can break them if it suits us. Though you might not want to mention my saying that to the Archbishop, as he's a belligerent fellow at the best of times and gets rather testy when the authority of the Church is challenged. Nor my privy council for that matter."

"No, of course not." Bella did her best not to smile at the panicked look that had appeared in the King's eyes.

"Yes, well, it was much easier when I was a navy admiral. I told people what to do and they did it. Now every word that comes out of my mouth is scrutinised, and I'm watched like a damned hawk, begging your pardon."

"Not at all," Bella murmured. "You mentioned the credence of a bride's status?"

"Yes. It's not an insurmountable problem. A large enough dowry generally counters any husbandly squeamishness. It's amazing what a man will tolerate to gain political advantage."

Bella's face fell, and the King eyed her curiously.

"Let me make sure I understand your wishes correctly. Despite Lord Masen's shockingly inappropriate behaviour, you would still prefer marriage to a marquis than having your pick of the princes of Europe?"

"Most definitely, Your Majesty. I realise it is not generally taken into consideration when choosing a partner for matrimony, but I love Lord Masen, and I want to spend my life with him and no other."

"One doesn't always get what one wants, Isabella. I loved the mother of my ten children, but one can't have an Irish, Catholic, actress for a queen, now can one?"

Bella's heart sank even as she felt for both the King and his mistress who she gathered must have been set aside.

"I _could_ overrule your wishes." The King let his words sink in before continuing. "But I have a feeling that wouldn't stop you from taking matters into your own hands."

Though she swallowed hard, Bella did not contradict his statement.

"You would hardly be the first couple to allow sentiment to guide their actions. But I would rather not have a prominent, if impetuous, young lord elope with a recently discovered member of a foreign aristocracy on my watch. Considering the attention, I expect the announcement of your royal connections will garner, the scandal would be horrendous. I am attempting to undo the damage my brother inflicted upon the reputation of the monarchy, not create more reasons for dissent."

"Quite." Bella nodded, surprised to find her unwelcome notoriety working in her favour.

"But I do own to being somewhat disappointed by the inflexibility of your decision," the King continued. "Lord Masen deserves to be punished for his actions, and I was rather looking forward to getting one up on Worthington for a change. It would have been most diverting to watch him grovel in an attempt not to have his son disinherited."

Unsure how to respond, Bella remained silent. Now that she had been reunited with Edward, however briefly, she had cause to question her resolve. While she had been willing to forfeit her happiness for the benefit of countless individuals of inferior fortune, the anguish she would feel if her chance to be with Edward was sacrificed to score points in a game of political one-upmanship was considerable.

The King sat scowling for a moment before a gleeful smile spread across his face.

"I will consider your wish, Lady Isabella—no guarantees, mind you—on one condition."

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"That your young man is in any fit state for matrimony once your father has finished with him, something I seriously doubt will be the case."

 **~I~**

 **LOL! I do like William IV, though his story (which we'll hear more of in future chapters) boggles my mind. Ten children with his mistress of 20 years before becoming king!**

 **As you might have noticed, there is lots of new stuff in this chapter that wasn't in the original Twific version of A Forbidden Love. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**


	37. Meddling

**I haven't had a chance to read the review for yesterday's chapter, but I thought I'd post this first in case anyone is waiting to read it.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Chapter 37 - Meddling**

Disappointed not to have received the King's unequivocal blessing, Bella was impatient to return to the throne room and discover the outcome of Edward's meeting with her father. She didn't think it would be as grim as the King had intimated, but the thought was unsettling. Unfortunately, the Sovereign was in no hurry, saying he wanted to make up for his regrettable familial neglect.

"I'm particularly interested to hear about the extraordinary excitement and adventures you have experienced these past months," he said.

It was not the way Bella would have described the trauma of seeing her father shot and her life upended, but she did her best to regale the curious sovereign. He seemed intent on painting her as a heroine for surviving the "unspeakable horror of a member of the aristocracy finding oneself in the role of a servant."

Considering he had spent so many years in the navy, she was a little surprised by the King's view. Although she imagined the same reaction would be forthcoming from any member of the upper class faced with having to perform menial tasks in return for their supper. She had certainly found the role of a servant tiring, but it hadn't been all bad. Being able to take credit for her endeavours and not having to hide her passion for baking was something Bella would miss. But she didn't imagine a marchioness could get away with spending her afternoons creating culinary delights with her kitchen staff.

The thought saddened her a little, but she shook it off. Edward had been willing to give up everything for them to be together. The loss of freedom she would experience as his wife— _if_ they were granted permission to marry—was a minor sacrifice in comparison.

When the King and Bella finally made the return journey to the throne room, she had to remind herself not to rush ahead. Repeating her earlier performance and throwing herself into Edward's arms was not an option, no matter how sorely she might be tempted. Passing through the large double doors into the throne room, her face fell when she did not see him or her father waiting.

"They'll be along shortly, my dear."

The King led Bella across the throne room to a doorway hidden behind a wide pillar. It opened into a surprisingly cosy salon with velvet-padded chairs arranged before a fireplace. Gold brocade curtains were drawn back from the windows that revealed a sunlit courtyard teeming with greenery and spring blossoms.

The setting was pleasant, but Bella was too anxious to appreciate it or savour the tea and delicacies hovering servants delivered as soon as they were seated. With her gaze trained on the doorway, she stifled a cry the moment Edward came into view.

A lifetime without him would be unendurable.

He smiled at her, and she placed the cup she had been nursing on an intricately carved side-table but resisted the urge to rise to her feet. Her father entered next, and she was relieved to see his colour was improved.

"Your Majesty." Edward bowed low before coming to stand before Bella. "My Lady."

His eyes sparkled as he took her hand in his.

"Lord Masen," she said softly.

"A slightly more socially acceptable greeting than the one we witnessed earlier, I see," the King said. "But nowhere near as entertaining to watch."

"Depends on the relationship of the observer, I believe, Your Majesty."

Bella's cheeks bloomed at her father's wry comment, yet she could not bring herself to regret having kissed Edward earlier. If the King refused to give his assent for them to marry . . .

Unwilling to finish the thought, her breath caught.

"Are you all right?" Edward queried softly, and she nodded.

"Do sit down." The King waved a hand. "One gets a stiff neck having to stare up at people, which is why thrones are always placed on a dais. But this is a far more comfortable setting for what is, essentially, a family gathering, don't you think?"

Her father took a seat across from Bella, while Edward sat by her side. He was still holding her hand and appeared to have no intention of letting it go. Neither the King nor her father commented, so she gratefully linked their fingers.

"I must say, Sir Charles, I'm quite disillusioned. You have failed to live up to your military reputation. Lord Masen looks to be in remarkably pristine condition considering I left the two of you alone for the better part of an hour. I was expecting, at least, a blackened eye or bloodied nose."

"I have found the threat of violence, if it is extreme enough, is usually sufficient, Your Majesty."

The King harrumphed, seeming genuinely disappointed Bella's father had not beaten Edward around the head with his cane. He moved restlessly at her side, and she wondered what her father had said to him.

"I'm sure you would agree that utter scoundrel, Hunter, deserves more than mere threats," the King continued. "A pity the man's as slippery as an eel, or I would let you at him and thoroughly enjoy the spectacle."

"As would I, Your Majesty," her father said with relish.

"Lord Hunter is not in prison?" Bella sat forward in alarm.

"It's all right." Edward squeezed her hand, and she edged closer to his side. "I shall keep you safe."

Feeling foolish for her reaction, she nevertheless remained where she was.

"We shall _all_ keep you safe." The King's word took the tone of a vow. "I've got half the guard out searching for the villain and some nasty surprises in store for him once he's caught. But enough of such distressing conversation. Lady Isabella and I have discussed her options, and she has made her wishes known. Although I must admit to being a tad disappointed by her recalcitrance. Despite my offering her the very real possibility of marriage to a crown prince, my lovely young cousin has her heart set on a future as the Marchioness of Masen."

Edward released a breath. "That's very good news, indeed."

"Yes, well. Don't go getting ahead of yourself Lord Masen. As the daughter of a foreign princess, Lady Isabella does not require my approval to marry, but _you_ certainly do. I'm hoping Sir Charles will make my life easier by withholding his blessing contingent on his daughter making a better match than a mere marquis. Now that your father is no longer hounding me to see you wed to the Earl of Denali's daughter, I may be able to strengthen an alliance by seeing you wed to a lesser foreign princess or duchess, but Isabella could be queen of her own country one day."

Bella whimpered, and her father sent her a reassuring glance before addressing the King.

"I believe my daughter has been through enough these past few months, Your Majesty, and I am hoping you will show her clemency by honouring her wishes. If she wants to marry Lord Masen, then she has my blessing, dependent on certain conditions being met, of course."

Her father speared Edward with a pointed look, leading Bella to believe they must have come to an agreement amidst the threats of violence.

"But before any decision is made, I believe the young couple require a few moments in private," he added.

"Are you sure that's wise?"

Bella's shoulders hunched at the King's inference she and Edward would behave inappropriately at the slightest opportunity.

"There are matters Lord Masen and I must discuss before we can make any decisions regarding the future, Your Majesty," she said.

"Really?" The King's expression lightened. "Your affections are not quite so fixed as you led me to believe? Ah . . . the fickleness of youth. Very well then." He gestured to the French doors that opened onto the courtyard. "Sir Charles, if you approve, I think the garden would be a suitable location for the young couple to conduct their discussion while we sit and enjoy our tea, observing from a discreet distance, of course."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Her father granted his permission with a nod, and Bella and Edward stood. With her hand resting on his arm, they walked through the doors to the flower-strewn courtyard.

"Shall we take a seat?" He gestured to a carved garden bench once they had put enough distance between them and their audience to be able to speak privately.

Nodding, Bella sat, the air between them filling with tension.

"I thought I would never see you again," she whispered. Tears welled in her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away.

"Don't cry." Edward caressed her cheek, and she allowed herself the indulgence of briefly leaning into his hand. "We're together now, and nothing will ever separate us again, I promise. That's if you do want to marry me?"

"Of course, I do. But there are things we need to talk about."

"Agreed. Beginning with my apologising profusely, repeatedly, and from the bottom of my heart for the way I treated you. You must think me a worse scoundrel than Hunter, not to mention an utter fool for ignoring the obvious fact you were not and never could be a commoner."

"Why couldn't I be?"

Edward's brow furrowed with confusion.

"Why couldn't I be a commoner, just one who had received an uncommon education?" Bella repeated, surprising herself with the direction of her thoughts. She had not intended to raise this topic, but Edward's words triggered an outpouring of the indignation that had been brewing within her for some time.

"Is the blood that flows through my veins really so superior to that of Angela's, with her kind heart, or Mrs Cope's, with her organisational skills and vast knowledge of housekeeping? What about Henson's leadership ability or Chef Peters' creative talent? They're but a few of the commoners we both know, fine intelligent people whose only difference to us are the opportunities and education we've received, and they have not. Are we, of the ruling class, with our superficiality and disdain for hard work really so superior to those who must rely on their wits and abilities to survive?"

Edward bowed his head in her direction.

"I stand, or rather _sit_ , corrected by a valid opinion from one of the few members of our society to have experienced life on either side of the divide. But while I see your point, you might not want to make it too loudly considering your current location." He glanced towards their audience. "The King is not exactly open to reform, and he might think you are in league with those advocating for revolution here in Britain."

Bella smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to get carried away. It is just my experiences have caused me to question the status quo. While I would never dismiss the dangers or hardships, there were aspects to living as a commoner I found almost appealing. I can't tell you how many times I wished _you_ were of a lower station, so we could have married and made a life together away from the strictures of society _._ "

"You almost received your wish. Losing you . . ." He closed his eyes, and it took a moment before he could continue speaking. "Losing you, merely confirmed how much you mean to me. I was serious in my intention to give it all away if that's what it took for us to be together. Although I wasn't sure how I would go about winning you back if I was stripped of everything and on the run. Which could still happen," he added grimly.

Bella gave a feeble laugh. "I have always wanted to travel, though living abroad permanently wasn't quite what I had in mind. I suppose my father could visit us . . ." Her words trailed away, before she shook her head. "What am I saying? Edward, you can't defy the King. There is too much at stake."

"Hopefully it won't come to that." He squeezed her hand. "His Majesty may yet grant his approval, though I need your assent first. You rejected my earlier proposal, not that I blame you."

"Under the circumstances, I thought it best. I was trying not to be selfish, though it broke my heart to leave you on a lie."

Edward stroked her cheek in that way of his that warmed her to her very soul.

"My brave, beautiful, self-sacrificing girl," he murmured. "Although I think there may have been more to your refusal, and I believe those same concerns are at the heart of your current reservations."

Bella's hopes rose that Edward was about to lay to rest her fears, that he wanted her exactly as she was and didn't expect her to alter her behaviour towards him one whit.

"You think I would be unfaithful," he continued, and she blinked.

That was another fear, though not as potent.

"I couldn't bear the thought of our being married and you spending time with another woman," she admitted.

"Oh, Bella. I deserve the horse-whipping your father threatened for the dreadful picture I painted of marriage."

"You merely enlightened me to the way things are done amongst those of our class, well, amongst the nobility and aristocracy, at any rate," she said. "My father told me he never kept a mistress, and you have mentioned your father intends remaining faithful to Esme, so I gather it's possible."

"Of course, it's possible, just not normally expected," Edward said wryly. "But I can assure you, I fully intend to remain faithful. I would give you my word as a gentleman, but after the way I have behaved, I doubt that would stand for very much. What I can do is promise you, from this day forth, earning your trust is my highest priority."

"You will honour your wedding vows?" Bella asked, determined there should be no ambiguity between them.

"Until death do us part. You are the only woman for me, Bella, only you . . . ever."

"What about your expectations of how I should behave when we are alone together as man and wife?"

Her heart pounded against the wall of her chest as she awaited his answer.

"Oh, Bella." He hung his head. "When I think of the things I said, the things I _did_ , and what I expected of you."

He shuddered, and her heart fell.

"I am not cold and unfeeling, Edward."

"No, but you are a lady not a . . . a . . ." He spread his hands helplessly.

"You think only whores and mistresses should behave as I did."

"It's not your fault, Bella. I gave you no choice." He took both her hands in his. "I am so very sorry for the way I treated you, the things I made you do. I took you on my desk in broad daylight, for God's sake, where anyone could—and did _—_ come barging in. You think I would treat my _wife_ that way?"

Bella winced at the memory of his cousin and friends coming upon them and the frightening things they had said. A locked door would have been preferable, but that did not mean she'd disliked what Edward had done before they were interrupted.

"It wasn't all terrible." She stared at their joined hands.

For a long moment there was silence. Her lower lip trembled, and he caressed her chin with his forefinger, slowly raising it so she could not hide from his gaze.

"Sweetheart, I love you, and I am very much looking forward to our being wed. But as your husband, you can rest assured I would never treat you with such disrespect. You are a lady, my darling Bella, or would you prefer I call you Isabella?"

Isabella was a more fitting name for one of her station, but she was hesitant to give up the name by which he knew her.

"I prefer Bella," she whispered.

"Bella it is."

Edward smiled, but she couldn't quite muster one in response.

"You told me ladies were incapable of passion, but we both know that's not true of me. Do you expect me to deny mine?"

"No!" Edward sat back. "I merely meant that as my wife, I would treat you with more respect than I did when I thought of you as my mistress. I made demands upon you, offended your tender sensibilities repeatedly, expected things of you no gentleman should expect of his wife—"

"I understand." Bella interjected, coming to a decision.

Of course, it must be difficult for Edward to adjust to the notion the woman he had considered perfect mistress material, one who had indulged his every passionate whim, was also suitable to be his wife. Despite her previous convictions, a life spent without Edward was not an option she was willing to contemplate, especially when it would most likely involve marriage to some foreign prince or other.

Compromise was in order.

Edward loved her, and he was looking forward to making love to her. As long as he didn't expect her to be completely unfeeling and find no pleasure in the process, she would do her best to fulfil whatever expectations he might have of her as his wife.

"I shall try not to disappoint you," she said.

"You have absolutely nothing to fear in that regard." He raised her hand to his mouth. "And I promise you will find me an exemplary husband."

"Will you still want to kiss me?"

"Of course! That's if you still desire it. After the way I treated you, I would understand if you had reservations—"

"No, I look forward to you kissing me again . . . when it's appropriate for you to do so, of course."

"So do I, my love. So do I."

Sighing with relief at the husky timbre of Edward's words, Bella regretted her lack of a fan. The thought of kissing him had caused her blood to heat. She swayed towards him, and he steadied her with his free hand.

"Later, sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes dark and filled with promise.

Bella couldn't keep the smile from her face. It would be all right. Things would be _different_ between them now that he knew her true identity, but it was clear to her Edward was sincere in his affections. Although he did seem a little misguided regarding what she would and would not find offensive.

He moved to kneel before her, and her smile faded. Edward wanted her for his wife, not because marriage to her was the most advantageous political alliance he could form, but because he loved her, maybe not _exactly_ as she was, but close enough.

"Lady Isabella Swan," he said, his voice infused with love. "While I know I don't deserve the opportunity, I promise to spend my life proving myself worthy of you. Will you consent to marry me, thereby making me the happiest man alive?"

"Yes, I will."

Edward's eyes sparkled as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her gloved fingers tenderly.

"I want nothing more than to take you in my arms and kiss you properly," he whispered. "But I dare not."

Another wave of relief washed over Bella. If he was willing to kiss her _properly_ , she had nothing to fear. If there was one thing she recalled about their time together at Worthington, it was that kisses could very easily lead to other, less proper, things.

"A kiss would be very nice, though I understand this is not the time or place. As long as you promise to rectify the situation at the first available opportunity, you are forgiven."

"I promise." Edward smiled.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about who I was from the beginning," she added, and his smile faded.

"I wish you had, but I understand why you felt you couldn't."

"Do you think you would have still been interested in me if you'd known I was a member of the gentry? Or would you have thought me beneath you, a country girl from a supposedly inconsequential family?"

Edward laughed out loud. "Oh, Bella, wild horses couldn't have dragged me away."

He glanced to the side, and she looked over to see the King and father watching them.

"Although our meddling Sovereign just might. He seems to have plans for you that don't include me."

"What do you suggest we do?" she asked, as Edward stood and assisted her to her feet.

"Be very firm in our determination to negotiate the shortest betrothal possible," he said _sotto voce_ as they approached their audience. "I believe the King would rather avoid a scandal, but I fear he will insist on a protracted engagement to attempt to sway you to his will."

"But I thought once a betrothal was announced, it couldn't be broken?" she said with alarm.

"Try telling our sovereign ruler that."

As overjoyed as she was by their reunion, and at least somewhat reassured about the nature of their future together, the path before them appeared littered with obstacles.

The King's blessing, which had yet to be given, could just as easily be withdrawn. Her father's and her fiancé's relationship was on shaky ground. Lord Hunter remained at large, a thought that filled her with apprehension despite the assurances she had received that the rogue could do her no further harm. And she was yet to face the scrutiny and probable censure of a society she feared would not be quite as forgiving of her adventures as her loving father and surprisingly indulgent royal cousin.

Looking up at Edward, the man she loved _almost_ beyond reason, Bella came to a decision. Two could play at this meddling game, and after everything she had endured, she felt no qualms whatsoever about manipulating things in her favour.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." She smiled her assurance. "I believe I have the perfect solution."

Bella had been a victim of ignorance and circumstances for long enough. It was time to take charge of her destiny and secure for Edward and herself their very own happily ever after.

 **~I~**

 **The End**

 **Just kidding!** **This is the last chapter of the first book (the story being split in two when it was originally published), but I'll be posting the next book straight on from here with no break. You'll be pleased to know that Edward's POV is included in the second book/half of the story. Yay! I can't recall why, but the editors insisted I tell the first half of the story in the heroine's POV only. I still have all the chapters from the original story which share many scenes from Edward's POV for events to date (his fight with Edgeley, confrontation with Tanya, scenes with the King, and chat with Bella's father). If you're interested, I could clean them up and post them as an outtake later on.**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**


	38. Revenge

**I certainly caught a few of you out with my little joke at the end of last chapter! Can you imagine the reaction my first ever published book received when it ended at that point? Ugh! It was an awful idea, and the backlash was dreadful. 5000 readers bought the original ebook copy of Innocence, but only 1000 came back to read Protection, as they were rightfully annoyed. I'm so happy I've been able to join the two books back together again, both in published form on Amazon and here on FFn. :)**

 **This is the prologue that was at the beginning of the second book, Protection. It is very dark! PM me if you are concerned. It's also only very short, so I'll also post the next chapter.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Prologue - Revenge**

Lord James Hunter, erstwhile baron and fugitive from the King's justice, nursed a brandy in his right hand, his left occupied with squeezing the hip of the blonde lounging on the arm of his chair. She was overdressed in corset and chemise, a situation he would soon remedy. Considering his plans for the evening, it was a good thing her tolerance for rough treatment was high.

Having been stripped of his title and forced to flee abroad to avoid imprisonment—his return to England only temporary—Hunter's need for brutality was bordering on murderous. He hoped the girl survived the night, as she had been with him for a while now. Finding a replacement would be a nuisance.

"Sorry to hear about your trials, old chap."

His drinking companion's tone was gloating, and Hunter's grip tightened on the girl's cloth-covered flesh.

"Gettin' started already, my lord?" The whore stood and sauntered towards the bed, the sway of her hips drawing his eye.

"You'll know when we've started." He dismissed her with a flick of his fingers and looked to the man seated opposite. "Care to join us? It's been some months since I've indulged in a threesome—well, _that_ sort of threesome. You can expect a high degree of physicality."

If his whip hand slipped and came down on the young lord's fragile skin, there wouldn't be anything the arrogant fop could do about it—and he might learn to treat his betters with a little more respect.

"Maybe next time. I've already put in my order down the road.''

Hunter shrugged. While he could appreciate the appeal of youth, he wasn't interested in bedding children. They bored him.

"You are a brave fellow for returning to English shores after the stunt you pulled," his drinking partner continued. "We've all been tempted to preempt an inheritance, but you must admit you took a risk trying to rid the Swan estate of its incumbent holder. Although, shooting the fellow in the chest _should_ have been sufficient."

"Bloody oath, it should have," Hunter muttered, infuriated the retired officer had survived what he'd believed to be a mortal wound.

"What I can't understand is why you went to such effort over a minor estate, an entailed one at that, or why you'd want to wed the man's daughter," he said, a sly smile twisting his lips. "Don't tell me you developed a tendre for the chit? Although it would explain why you had all and sundry out hunting for her."

"I couldn't give a damn about the girl." Hunter downed his glass in one gulp and then threw it at the stone fireplace.

"Unappealing, was she?"

"Quite the opposite. Red hair, green eyes, and a form to make a man's hands itch. Well, a man who appreciates that sort of thing." Once she was under his control, Hunter anticipated receiving great enjoyment from marking the girl's porcelain skin—repeatedly. "She was merely a means to an end."

"What end would that be? I heard the necklace the daughter took with her when she fled was valuable."

"Valuable?" Hunter sneered.

His curiosity had been piqued by the rumours of a French princess having escaped the _Terror,_ a priceless pearl necklace in her possession, but he'd never expected to discover her daughter was his distant cousin. Motivated by increasing debt, he had only made the journey to Swan Manor in the hopes of finding his predecessor in poor health or a generous mood. But one glance at his flame-haired daughter, who bore a striking likeness to the princess whose portrait Hunter had seen at St James's Palace, and he'd realised a far greater prize than the minor estate was within his reach. If they had wed, the girl's connections, once publicly acknowledged, would have greatly increased his standing. Considering the paltry size of her dowry, he'd have had to realise the monetary value of the necklace—a challenge given its notoriety. The situation was simpler now that he no longer need worry about the opinions of others, a two-edged sword for which he had Miss Swan to thank.

"The necklace isn't merely valuable, it's priceless." Hunter dangled the hook. "But not worth half as much as my sweet cousin to the right buyer."

"Really? She must be something special." His visitor's eyes lit with avarice before slowly dimming. "It's a pity your plan failed so comprehensively. The girl not only escaped, she eluded capture for several _months_. Hid out with her old governess, or so I heard. Her father didn't die, and now you have been publicly denounced. A bit of a disappointment all round, I imagine."

If Hunter hadn't needed him, the young fop would have regretted his patronising tone.

"Plan _A_ was unsuccessful, but there are many more letters in the alphabet."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I plan to make Sir Charles regret his survival. As for his daughter, Miss Isabella Swan is going to pay a high price for thwarting me." Confident his prospective accomplice had taken the bait, Hunter reeled him in. "To take possession of what is rightfully mine—the necklace and the girl, both worth a fortune in the right circles, a fortune I am willing to share _—_ I shall need some assistance."

 **~I~**

 **Eek! You were right to be worried about Hunter! He's a truly despicable man.**

 **There was lots of interest in reading the Edward POV chapters that were cut from the story so far (we start hearing from him from here on out), so I separated them from the original story, and to my surprise, they came to almost 50 000 words! I'm not sure how you'd like me to post them, as they start from close to the beginning, when Bella first arrives at Worthington. I could go back and add them in where they fit, just at the bottom of the applicable chapters. Or would you prefer I posted them separately as outtakes? Let me know, and I'll get on it. :)**

 **xx Elise**


	39. Proposal

**Another short chapter, as we get to see the 'proposal' scene from Edward's POV. I'm fairly certain this is the only time we get a repetition of a scene. Sorry it doesn't really move the story along.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Proposal**

Edward took a deep breath in preparation for asking the most important question of his life. A positive answer was assured, but he couldn't help feeling apprehensive, still reeling as he was from a series of stunning disclosures.

Discovering the young maid he had taken as his mistress was actually the gently raised daughter of one of his father's oldest friends, on the run from an unscrupulous baron and in fear for her life, had explained a great deal about her behaviour. In particular, her squeamishness over the role he had offered her.

It had also changed everything.

While Edward had been stunned to learn of Bella's duplicity, he could barely begin to catalogue his misdemeanours where she was concerned. Even before discovering her identity, he'd begun to feel an uncomfortable degree of guilt regarding his treatment of her. She deserved so much more than the life of a mistress, relegated to the shadows and having to share him with his legitimate family. Although what else he could have done if she _had_ been a lowly servant, he didn't know. Marriage was out of the question, or so he'd thought at the time. The only way he could have granted her his fidelity was to remain unwed, thereby reneging on his duty to provide his father with an heir. An extraordinary sacrifice for one of his station, it was an offer he had been about to make when he had learned she was a member of the gentry.

The shock of that disclosure had been bad enough, motivating his willingness to make an even greater sacrifice and give up everything—his titles, inheritance, and place in society—to marry her if King William IV withheld his permission. He was relieved that shouldn't be necessary, Bella's unexpected heritage making her more than suitable to be his bride. But learning she was the daughter of a French princess—not just a lady but an aristocrat, for God's sake—had nearly brought him to his knees.

That she was willing to forgive him was a miracle, one Edward had no intention of taking for granted. Her father, Sir Charles's, violent threats were quite unnecessary, as he already intended to do everything in his power to make up to Bella for his less than gentlemanly behaviour.

But first, he had to propose.

Edward glanced to where Sir Charles and the King watched them through the French doors of the palace drawing room. The courtyard to which he had escorted Bella was an attractive setting, the spring garden in colourful bloom. But he'd not expected the occasion of asking for her hand in marriage to include an audience. At least they couldn't be overheard.

Kneeling beside her, he was taken once again by just how lovely Bella was. Her vibrant red hair, green eyes, striking features, and feminine figure combined in a way that set his heart to pounding. Then there was her smile, though at the moment it was missing, as she seemed as anxious as he was. She smoothed her full skirt then placed her trembling hands in her lap. While he had seen her perform the exact same actions on numerous occasions, this time was different. This time, aware of her true heritage, he recognised what should have been obvious to him from the beginning.

Bella was a lady.

She had just finished scolding him for assuming that a person of common blood was somehow less valuable or capable than one of the gentry or nobility, an almost heretical opinion. She had a point, he supposed. But, in light of her undeniably gracious manner, how he could have so readily accepted her story of being raised in a public inn beggared belief. Edward's only excuse for such a deficit of insight was that his judgement had been clouded by an excess of desire.

With his attention captured by the way the pearl necklace gleamed against Bella's creamy skin above the neckline of her gown, he concluded nothing had changed. After releasing a steadying breath, he met her gaze and took one of her hands in his.

"Lady Isabella Swan." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "My darling Bella. While I know I don't deserve it, I promise to spend my life proving myself worthy of you. Will you consent to marry me?"

"Yes, I will," she said, her smile shy but unwavering.

Edward could barely contain his joy. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her properly, but he dared not. When her lips parted with a gasp, he realised he'd spoken the thought aloud.

"A proper kiss would be very nice, though this is not the time or place."

Wincing at her gentle rebuke, her following words gave him hope he had not offended her too badly.

"As long as you promise to rectify the situation at the first available opportunity, you are forgiven."

"I promise."

The softness of her gaze reminded him of the way she looked lying replete in his arms, and Edward stifled a groan. Everything reminded him of the intimacy they'd shared, and he foresaw a treacherous time ahead while he learned to curb the desire he had previously expressed so freely.

"Do you think you would have still been interested in me if you'd known I was a member of the gentry?" she asked, her expression turning thoughtful. "Or would you have thought me beneath you, a country girl from a supposedly inconsequential family?"

Edward laughed aloud.

"Oh, sweetheart, wild horses couldn't have dragged me away." He glanced towards their audience. "Although our meddling monarch just might try."

"What do you suggest we do?" Bella asked as he stood and helped her to her feet.

"Be very firm in our determination to negotiate the shortest betrothal possible," he said in a low voice while linking their arms. "I believe the King would rather avoid a scandal, but I fear he will insist on a protracted engagement to attempt to sway you to his will."

"But I thought once a betrothal was announced, it couldn't be broken?"

"Try telling _him_ that."

Facing their sovereign, Edward straightened his shoulders and prepared to face the next obstacle in their path.

 **~I~**

 **I think Bella has her work cut out for her getting Edward to understand she is the same flesh and blood woman, regardless of her status!**

 **A guest reviewer asked me about her changing title, as she started out as a 'Miss' but is now being addressed as 'Lady'. Her official title is still up in the air, but she's been given the honorary designation of 'Lady' while the decision is being made.**

 **Another chapter tonight, or are you happy to wait until tomorrow?**

 **xx Elise**


	40. Machinations

**Hello again! Here is the next chapter as promised. I've also posted the first outtake of Edward's POV. It's from his first sighting of Isabella and reveals some surprising insights into what has shaped his views. Even though it's going backward in the story, I think it's definitely worth a read.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Machinations**

Gripping Edward's arm tightly, Bella considered a possible solution to their dilemma. If the King thought they _had_ to marry, his plans would be stymied, and the wedding could occur at their earliest convenience—or so she hoped.

Looking up at the man she loved almost beyond reason, she came to a decision. Two could play at this meddling game. After everything she had endured, Bella felt no qualms about manipulating things in her favour.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." She smiled her assurance. "I believe I have the perfect solution."

~I~

"A heretofore unknown relative to the crown will require a protracted engagement. But only after Lady Isabella has been properly introduced to society, domestic and foreign, at a series of formal events."

Not wanting to distress her father, Bella made sure he saw her wink before addressing King William's declaration. She feared the sovereign harboured the belief she could be enticed away from Edward's side by one of the foreign aristocrats he proceeded to speak of at length.

"The Crown Prince of Bavaria sounds delightful, Your Majesty." She took the risk of interrupting when it became apparent he intended to laud each prince or duke's individual merits in detail while Edward fumed quietly at her side. "And I do appreciate your desire for my introduction to society to be memorable. But I am not sure delaying Lord Masen's and my nuptials for any length of time is the wisest course of action."

She waved her free hand in the vicinity of her mid-region, and the King's mouth formed a moue. While pleased to see her insinuation having its desired effect, she hadn't taken into account Edward's reaction to their supposed news.

"Bella?" he whispered hoarsely.

Looking up to see he had gone quite pale, she smiled sweetly, willing him to understand her silent message. "Or we could wait, for a _long_ time, while I am paraded before every eligible prince from here to the Baltic Sea if you would prefer."

Edward's gaze dropped to her tightly corseted stomach before returning to her still-widened eyes.

"Oh, no, waiting is not a good idea."

Composing her features, she turned to find the King viewing them with suspicion.

"Sir Charles, it would appear your daughter believes young love is more powerful than the wishes of the King of England, but she seems to be forgetting I was not born yesterday. Are you aware of this development, or has it come as big of a shock to you as it appears to have to Lord Masen?"

"I was not aware Isabella might be with child." Her father smiled encouragingly at Bella before directing a fierce look Edward's way. "But it is not outside the realm of possibility."

"Not necessarily true, either."

Bella blushed at the knowledge the King had seen straight through her attempt at deception.

"Time will tell," he continued. "But her revelation leaves me on the horns of a dilemma. I could still withhold my approval, but I have no desire to be churlish, nor do I need the scandal." He eyed Bella and Edward pointedly. "I had hoped these young cousins of mine would assist me by strengthening two separate alliances rather than forming one that is of no great benefit to the crown."

Bella's hopes seesawed with the sovereign's words, Edward's expression mirroring her concerns.

"As much as I would like to be of service, Your Majesty," she said, "I have no desire to wed anyone but Lord Masen."

Surprising Bella by placing an arm around her shoulder, Edward drew her close to his side. "And I have no intention of marrying anyone but Lady Isabella."

"Such stubbornness," the King muttered. "I'm of a mind to refuse my permission just to teach you both a lesson."

To her relief, Bella's father spoke up on her behalf.

"I believe my daughter has learned enough painful lessons these past months."

"Along with the art of manipulation." The King frowned. "While I am unwilling to concede defeat just yet, it would seem to avoid suffering your delightful daughter's machinations, I must offer a compromise. I will hold a ball a fortnight from today where I shall introduce Isabella to society. If, at such time, she is still of the opinion that marriage to Lord Masen is the _wisest_ course of action, I will announce the young couple's betrothal. Until then, I would prefer you kept the matter quiet." Turning to Bella, he added, "Circumstances may alter _,_ in which case, I would ask you to reconsider both your duty to the crown and the magnitude of what I'm offering you. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

Bella shot Edward a worried glance. "Not at all, Your Majesty, but I do not believe my opinion will change."

"One never knows. Young love can be surprisingly fickle. The opportunity to become the queen of one's own country is not an opportunity many young ladies would forego."

Bella could imagine nothing worse. Just the thought of becoming Edward's marchioness was daunting enough.

"If you insist on marrying this impetuous young man, do make sure to name one of your sons after me when you eventually have a child." The King's expression softened. "You shall find I am quite the doting relative."

"It would be an honour." Bella curtsied.

Turning to Edward, the sovereign added, "I would advise you to keep your wits about you, Lord Masen, as I believe marriage to Lady Isabella will prove quite the challenge. God help us all if she decides to team up with your father and starts demanding social change. The two of them will have the Empire in an uproar in no time, as if I haven't got enough on my plate with these blasted reform laws."

Under the circumstances, Bella deemed it wise to refrain from admitting she was, indeed, determined to make a difference in the lives of vulnerable girls and young women. Discovering she was highly connected and independently wealthy would be of tremendous assistance, though she suspected discretion might be in order. After departing the King's presence, the subdued party reunited with Alice, who had been sent to visit with the Queen.

"I'm sure all will be well," Alice said, clutching Bella's arm. "You couldn't possibly come this far to be denied now."

"Here's hoping," Bella murmured, exchanging a worried glance with Edward.

"Queen Adelaide wants to meet you," Alice added. "She'll be issuing you an invitation to visit with her in the next few days."

"How wonderful." Bella struggled to muster a smile as they settled in the carriage for the journey from St James's to Cullen House. All she wanted was to savour her reunion with Edward, but Alice's less than welcome announcement tempered her joy. Queen Adelaide was a pious, dutiful woman, and Bella feared the regal lady would find much to condemn about her recent behaviour.

"It will be all right." Edward patted her hand where it rested on his arm. "You are sure to win her over just as you did the King."

"Until I insinuated I might be with child." Bella looked to her father. "I am sorry, Papa."

"There's no need to apologise, my dear. I wanted to applaud your quick thinking. Who knows? If Lord Masen had been a little quicker on the uptake, your ruse might have been more successful."

Edward ducked his chin, and it was Bella's turn to pat his arm in an attempt to offer comfort.

"The King seems determined to have his way," she said worriedly. "He can't force me to marry someone against my will, can he?"

"Of course not," her father said. "You heard him say he wants to avoid a scandal."

"Which he _might_ think he can avoid by denying my petition, something that is within his power," Edward said grimly.

Bella's hand tightened on his arm. "So, what do we do?"

"We abide by the King's wishes and keep quiet about our intentions while you take the time to consider his offer."

Bella stared at him, appalled. "But I don't want to marry some foreign prince."

"Are you sure? King William offered to make you a duchess, and there's every possibility you could become a queen one day. In either case, your social standing would be much higher than that of a mere marchioness. The tables have turned, Bella. You will be marrying beneath you if we wed."

Hurt that, after all they had been through, Edward could think she cared more about status than him, Bella almost missed the bleakness in his eyes.

"I am more than happy with my choice." Despite their audience, she allowed some of her feelings for him to show, and he released the breath he was holding.

"But what will you do if the King doesn't give his blessing?" Alice asked.

"Let's not worry about that unless we must," Bella's father answered. "For now, I need to determine where Isabella and I are going to reside whilst in London."

"With us, of course," Edward and Alice replied in unison.

"You don't think that would appear unseemly?" Bella frowned. Staying with Edward's family was her preference considering the opportunities it would present for them to spend time together. But she was determined not to expose her father to further gossip, something she probably should have considered before implying there was a reason that would require a hasty marriage.

 **~I~**

 **I'm glad you're all enjoying King William. He's a hoot, isn't he? Wait until we meet Queen Adelaide!**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who voted for Duty and Desire in the TwiFanFictionRecs Top Ten Completed Fics for March 2018. It came in at first place!**

 **xx Elise**


	41. Expectations

**I do so love your wonderful thoughts and comments on this story! You make me chuckle and groan and consider aspects of the story I'd either forgotten or never even thought of. I wish I could reply to each one of you every time, but then I'd never get any new stories written. I just hope you know how much I appreciate you taking the time to leave a review. :)**

 **This is an extra long chapter for this story...nearly 4000 words. It covers quite a lot of thought provoking topics as well as alluding to Bella having her work cut out for her in properly educating her stubborn lord on appropriate fiance/husbandly behaviour. As Judyblue95 so aptly put it, 'Men, you can't live with them and you can't live without them...though you can try!' I think Bella would rather try and get Edward back on board the, ahem, 'passion train', or should that be carriage?**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Expectations**

"Your mother was a _princess_?" Edward's father, Carlisle, the Duke of Worthington, stared in disbelief when Bella shared her news. "Why didn't you say something when Esme and I returned from our honeymoon to find you?"

"Because I didn't know. It means I am a lady . . . _only_ a lady." Bella stepped closer to Edward's side, still perturbed he could think she might prefer marriage to another in exchange for a loftier title.

"The King has given his tentative blessing for our betrothal," Edward added.

The celebration his words triggered was cut short when Bella's father challenged Carlisle.

"After your son was released from his obligation to the Denalis, you should have written to me. Isabella deserved to know matrimony was an option."

Carlisle raised his chin. "But I had no idea the King might approve an alliance, and what with the antislavery bill at stake—"

"Something of great importance, I agree," Bella's father interjected. "But it wasn't your happiness you were willing to sacrifice to ensure its passing but _my_ daughter's. She has suffered enough and could have done without the added despair of believing her future happiness had been sacrificed to expediency."

Carlisle paled at his friend's bald accounting.

"Isabella seemed determined to refuse my son's offer, and I could hardly blame her considering the way she'd been treated."

"So, you thought it best she relinquishes any chance of marital happiness?"

Carlisle sent Bella an apologetic glance. "I didn't believe there could be a marriage—not a legitimate one, recognised by the Church. They'd have had to live abroad, banished from society. Would you have even agreed to an elopement?"

"If it was the only option available to them."

"That's very kind of you, Papa." While touched by her father's willingness to sacrifice his reputation, his words reminded Bella that she had forgotten about this remaining obstacle. "But I'm not sure I could live with myself if I knew my happiness had come at the expense of the abolishment of slavery in the Empire."

"About that." Carlisle puffed out his cheeks. "With Wilberforce's health failing, the tide of opinion has turned. The consensus is that the bill's passing is now inevitable."

"What?" Edward stepped forward. "How long have you known about this?"

Bella thought Edward's indignation understandable, and she was relieved to hear from Carlisle it hadn't been long.

"Of course, I accept your apology," she said when it was offered by her future father-in-law, wanting to put the matter behind her. Having endured enough near tragedies based on ignorance to last a lifetime, Bella just hoped there would be no more.

~I~

Carlisle and Esme readily agreed that Bella and her father should stay at Cullen House until the wedding, but any hopes Bella held that this meant she ould be allowed time to reacquaint herself with Edward were quickly dashed. As soon as matters were settled, she was whisked away by Esme and Alice for what felt like a never-ending discussion of which couturiers, milliners, shoemakers and the like she should give her patronage. Bella thought the gowns she'd brought with her from Worthington Hall were more than sufficient for her introduction to society, but apparently, she was mistaken.

"You are a member of the aristocracy," Alice said, arching one brow. "Everyone will be watching, just waiting for you to make a mistake, at which point they'll pounce like a pack of hyenas."

"I wouldn't go _quite_ that far," Esme said. "But I would advise you to put your best foot forward wherever possible."

"Which means being dressed in the latest fashions created by only the most preeminent dressmakers and the like," Alice added. "It is your duty as Edward's future marchioness, as it is my duty as the daughter of a duke, to always look our best."

A very expensive duty, Bella gathered from the astonishing sums the two women bandied about.

"You needn't worry," Bella's father told her when they met that evening before dinner.

"Once your engagement is made public, I shall have your marriage settlement drawn up. I have already discussed it with Lord Masen, and he will pay for your wardrobe and any household expenses, as well as providing you a generous allowance. You will retain complete control over your mother's jewels and any funds you derive from their sale."

"Edward agreed to this?" Bella knew enough to know it was an extraordinary concession on his part.

"Without question. He can afford it, and it's the least he can do after the way he behaved." Her father sniffed. "Which takes care of your future financial needs, but as for your current emotional requirements . . ."

Recognising her air of desperation, her father insisted time be allotted in Bella's rapidly filling schedule to see some of the city sights and take a turn around the nearby parks.

"With Edward in attendance?"

"As long as you have the proper chaperonage, I can't see why not."

"Thank you, Papa." Bella breathed a sigh. Her father wasn't making things easy on Edward, which was hardly surprising, but at least he wasn't going to keep them apart until the wedding.

~I~

"This afternoon felt like it was never going to end," Edward whispered as he escorted Bella into dinner.

"For me, too." She gently squeezed his arm, her mood lifting when she was seated between her father and her betrothed for dinner.

After they had finished the sumptuous meal, Edward declined brandy and a cigar and requested leave to accompany the ladies to the adjoining drawing room. Under Esme's watchful eye, he took a seat a little closer to Bella than propriety would normally decree. When he clasped her hand in his, she looked to his stepmother. "Do you mind?"

"Under the circumstances, I think some allowances can be made. Just remember to maintain an acceptable distance if we have guests or when you are out in public."

"Of course." Bella smiled her thanks and met Edward's gaze, relieved that nothing would part them again. Well, nothing other than their chaperones imposing society's restraints. By rights, betrothed couples were not supposed to touch one another except on the dance floor or for the purpose of escorting the lady across a room. While Esme was of an ilk to be forgiving, something for which Bella was immensely grateful, most ladies of her standing would refuse to even entertain a girl with Bella's past, regardless of the circumstances. Requesting time alone, so she could climb into Edward's lap, wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss him the way she wanted to, would be asking too much of her future mother-in-law.

"Is something troubling you?" Edward asked when her smile fell.

"You will think me silly in light of the obstacles we've overcome." He cocked a brow, encouraging her to continue, though she made sure to lower her voice to a whisper. "I was thinking how challenging it will be not to bristle at the restrictions with which we'll be faced when we have known such freedom in the past."

Edward's jaw tightened, accentuating the planes and angles of his face.

"Should I not have admitted to such a thing?" Bella asked, and he shot his stepmother and sister a furtive glance. "I don't think they heard me, but I apologise for my lack of decorum. I fear it may take some time to find my footing in my new role."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Edward said. "Your honesty is one of the many things I love about you."

"My honesty?" Bella pulled back a fraction.

"Yes, your honesty _._ " He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I won't deny I wish you had confided in me when we were at Worthington, but I understand why you didn't. God knows you tried. When I think of the night I . . . the night we first." He ran a hand through his hair. "You told me your father hadn't raised you to welcome such an offer, but I was so obtuse . . ."

"It is not your fault," Bella said firmly. "You offered me an alternative, several actually, and I chose not to take them because I wanted to be with you. I'm the one who was in the wrong . . . who _lied._ I don't see how you can call me 'honest.'" Her shoulders slumped.

"Circumstances forced you to keep certain matters hidden, but you have always been truthful in the expression of your thoughts and affections. I wouldn't change that about you, even if it does mean I am sure to be disconcerted on occasion by your openness."

Leaning closer, Edward whispered, "I shall admit to being tempted by memories of our time together, but I am determined to make up for taking advantage of you and show respect to you and your father. I fear it will take us both a little time to adjust to the altered parameters of our relationship."

Bella silently applauded the strength of Edward's character while wondering how many days, and _nights,_ they must endure until their wedding. He had professed his love and vowed to remain faithful. Surely, within _those_ parameters, there would be room for them to express their affection for one another in an acceptable manner.

To her relief, when their fathers entered the parlour, rather than insist the young couple join in a group activity, they left them to their reacquainting.

"So, tell me everything," Edward said, eliciting a laugh from Bella when she recalled his previous inquisitions. "There are so many things I don't know about you. I'm assuming much of what you said at Worthington was based in truth, but I want to know it all. What your childhood was like, your friendships, do you possess any talents I'm unaware of?"

"You mean besides pouring hot tea and baking pastries?" A heated look appeared in his eyes, and Bella's smile faded. If even a relatively harmless reference to their shared past could incite passion to simmer between them, surviving the weeks of their betrothal—once it was confirmed—would prove challenging.

Alice soon joined them, and Bella did her best to keep the conversation on safe ground while answering their numerous questions.

"Enough," she said with a laugh after a half hour had passed. "I am sick of the sound of my own voice. Edward, what have _you_ been up to since we were last together at Worthington Hall? Alice has been very informative, but I fear there are gaps in her knowledge, gaps I am sure she would also like to have filled."

"Most definitely." Alice nodded, and Edward found himself on the receiving end of his sister's demanding interrogative style. Bella let her do the questioning, happy to rest against his shoulder.

Despite his earlier words of caution, they had inched closer as the evening progressed with no rebuke from their parents. While listening to Edward's accounting of events, she was more than content to savour the nearness of his body and the press of his long, muscular thigh against her own. The way his fingers caressed her hand as if he was memorising its lines and planes anew was a particular delight. She only interjected when he mentioned Jasper's role in uncovering Tanya's duplicity—the earl's daughter who tried to trick Edward into marrying her—and Alice visibly tensed.

"You care for him, don't you?"

Alice nodded. "Father says I can't see him until he's proved himself worthy, but he won't say how he is to accomplish such a task. I fear Lord Whitlock must think me flighty for the way I pretended interest in Lord Edgeley. Plus, there are the matters we discussed on the journey. For all I know, he could be planning to keep a mistress after he weds—if he doesn't have one already."

"Alice!" Edward's eyes widened.

"Oh really, Edward." She gave her brother a look of disdain. "After everything that has occurred, you cannot possibly believe I am still ignorant of what goes on. Keeping a mistress isn't even the worst of it. What's to stop Lord Whitlock, or whomever I should marry, from visiting those dreadful places where women sell their bodies?"

"Not necessarily by choice," Bella said, and Edward shifted in his seat. It pained her to acknowledge he had been party to the behaviour considered appropriate for young gentlemen—visiting brothels and assuming the young girls working in them were grateful for the opportunity to service the gentlemen who attended.

"I am aware of society's double standard," Alice continued. "Personally, I don't know what's worse—the damage that must be done to the character of young gentlemen instructed in such duplicity or the misery inflicted on young ladies forced to deny their natural inclinations. They are supposed to pretend they have no desire for their husbands and are doomed to a life of deceit as both victim and resentful perpetrator."

"And then there are the poor women the men turn to in place of their wives, some mere girls, used and abused by a society that condones both cruelty and blatant hypocrisy." Bella spoke with passion, only questioning the appropriateness of her words when Edward winced. "Not that I'm saying you or Lord Whitlock would have ever . . ."

"Knowingly hurt a child?" he finished for her when her words trailed away. "I should hope not, but we have done little to defend them."

The silence that followed Edward's admission alerted Bella to the fact their elders had interrupted their conversation to listen in. Her heart sank. She was used to being able to speak with Edward about whatever was on her mind and would have to remember to temper her words. "Please, forgive me," she said, her shoulders tensing, as she looked from her father to her future parents-in-law. "I shouldn't have brought up such an indelicate subject."

"It is true that ladies aren't supposed to know about such things, and if we become aware, we are to pretend ignorance," Esme said.

Alice hugged herself around her middle. "That sounds awful. I don't think I could bear it if my husband were unfaithful."

Bella shuddered at the thought, but she was aware there were worse things. Angela had told her Esme's story, of how her first husband, Lord Platt, had treated her badly while abusing the young girls in his service . . . Angela included.

"Such behaviour is condoned by society and what most gentlemen expect." Esme reached for Carlisle's hand, and the couple exchanged a look, hers filled with gratitude and his with compassion. His expression hardening, Carlisle faced the room.

"It makes me wonder how I shall trust any man with my daughter."

"The same way I am willing to trust your son with mine, I imagine." Sir Charles's mouth flattened into a line. "By making sure he knows what is required of him and the precise consequences of failing to live up to his word."

Edward squirmed at Bella's side, and she wondered with what he had been threatened. Despite assuring her father she had entered willingly into their relationship, he seemed to place the blame solely at Edward's feet.

"Yes, but there's only so much influence a father can have over his daughter's well-being once she is married," Carlisle continued. "Lord Whitlock seems like an honourable fellow, but how can I be sure? From my understanding, his treatment of Isabella was far from exemplary, and he has some questionable acquaintances."

"They were my acquaintances also."

Bella shuddered at Edward's glum admission, then she reminded herself there was nothing to worry about. She didn't imagine Lord Whitlock would have maintained his friendship with Lord Edgeley after Edward banished the crude fellow from Worthington. As for keeping in contact with Lord Hunter, that was out of the question now the man had been denounced and fled abroad.

Recalling how Lord Whitlock had come with Edward to her rescue in the markets of Worthey and then offered to help her find a way to stay with his friend when she had thought it was impossible, she was inclined to be forgiving of his less-gentlemanly comments. From the sadness in Alice's eyes, it seemed obvious to Bella that her friend was halfway to being in love with the Scotsman.

"I have a suggestion," she said and then snapped her mouth shut.

Esme smiled. "We would all like to hear it."

Bella wasn't so sure, fearing her intention to behave in a more decorous manner was destined to be short-lived. At Edward's nod of encouragement, she continued. "During my time masquerading as a servant, I became aware that many young women face grave dangers in their places of employment. Some are even stolen off the street and forced to work as, well . . ." She spread her hands, her listeners' solemn nods assuring her they knew to what she was referring. "Needless to say, their plight has become very dear to my heart. If not for Edward, my story might have had a similar end."

Bella wanted him to know she considered him the hero in her tale, _not_ the villain, but his expression remained grim. As far as she was concerned, his willingness to give up everything in order that they should wed more than atoned for his perceived wrongdoings. But she was beginning to suspect that his belief he had behaved dishonourably would not be so easily assuaged.

Hoping her plan would give Edward the avenue he needed to mollify his conscience, and Alice a chance to discover if Lord Whitlock was the man with who she wished to spend her life, she turned to face the others. "I assume there must be charitable organisations that help young girls, and I would like to support them. I thought we all could."

"That's a credit to your compassionate nature," Carlisle said. "But I'm curious as to what bearing your benevolent intentions have on my being able to discern a young gentleman's trustworthiness?"

"It is a matter of education," Bella said, sitting forward. "My belief is the majority of young gentlemen are ignorant of the dangers girls face when they are without protection. One way Lord Whitlock could prove his sincerity is by becoming acquainted with the reality of the situation and working for the betterment of the women he may have, inadvertently, disrespected in the past. That's if you think he'd be willing?" Looking to Edward again, Bella hoped she hadn't overstepped the mark.

"I am sure he'd be willing, as would I, _not_ that we were ones to overly indulge in that sort of thing."

The uncomfortable silence that followed his words was broken by Esme.

"That's an excellent idea, one that would give us all the opportunity to make a difference."

"In a way I suspect will test the mettle of any young gentleman," Carlisle added dryly. "Thank you, Isabella, for sharing your unique perspective on a challenging issue. Now I think it is time we called it a night."

"It has certainly been a long day," her father said. "But before Isabella and I retire, I would like a few moments with her and Lord Masen."

His tone revealed nothing of his intentions, and Bella crossed her fingers in the hope he wasn't planning to harangue Edward anew.

"You wished to speak with us, sir?" Edward asked, after his parents and sister had said their good nights. He stood as if to attention, and Bella sidled closer, whether to offer support or find comfort, she wasn't sure. Not that she was afraid of her father, of course. Well, not for herself.

"I wanted to offer you both my personal congratulations on gaining the King's approval for your nuptials—qualified though they may be. I'm sure he'll come around, and I must say I am relieved. The idea of relocating abroad at my age was hardly appealing." A smile twitched his lip, and Bella breathed a sigh. That her father's sense of humour was reasserting itself was an excellent sign.

"By way of an early betrothal gift, I thought I would mention it will probably take me a good five minutes to make my way up the stairs. I shan't require Isabella's company until I reach the landing. Good night, Lord Masen."

"Please, sir, call me Edward."

"Very well, Edward." Her father nodded before turning to Bella. "My dear, I shall see you at the top of the stairs in a little while. Five minutes to be precise."

"Of course, Papa, and thank you." She ducked her head to hide the grin she had no hope of suppressing. As soon as he left the room, she spun to face Edward, wondering what he would make of her father's extraordinary offer. At the sight of his desire-darkened eyes, the breath she was holding escaped on a sigh, and she moved into his arms.

"Bella." His lips brushed her forehead, his hands resting gently at her waist.

Rising on tiptoes, she entwined her arms around his neck and reached for his mouth, murmuring with dismay when he forestalled her.

"I am afraid if I start kissing you, I won't be able to stop." His breath tickled the tender skin below her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Don't worry. I'm sure Papa will intervene if we get carried away."

Groaning, he buried his face in her hair, and Bella could have kicked herself for reminding him.

"Kiss me, Edward. You promised."

Leaning back, he met her gaze. "So, I did."

Bella's eyes fluttered closed, the desire to replace treasured memory with far more satisfying reality coursing through her. When his soft, warm lips touched hers, she whimpered, her fingers clutching his shoulders. Eager for him to deepen the kiss, she opened her mouth, but he didn't take advantage of the opportunity. She hid her disappointment, savouring the kiss and determined not to be ungrateful. Their time was short, and he was right to be wary of getting too carried away. But when she felt the hardness of his arousal brush against her stomach, she was relieved she wasn't the only one so affected.

"I could sneak out of my room tonight," she whispered between soft, sweet kisses. "Angela would cover for me."

"I beg your pardon?" Edward pulled back with a start.

"You don't want to _be_ with me after so long?"

"Of course, I do, but I made a promise to your father I would be respectful, and well . . ." He ran a hand raggedly through his hair.

"Gentlemen don't lie with ladies to whom they are not properly wed." Bella's cheeks flamed. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have made such an offer."

"It is all right, sweetheart. It's not your fault."

"It isn't?" Her hopes rising, she closed the small distance between them.

"No. I shouldn't have given you the impression I expected more. I treated you abominably in the past, and I will do better in future, I promise."

 _Abominably?_ The passion from but a few seconds earlier was replaced with apprehension, as Bella considered his words. She had hoped her fears would prove unfounded, but it sounded like he didn't want things to return to the way they had been between them—that he viewed their time together very differently than she did. Uncertain how to respond, she kept perfectly still for his final, chaste kiss.

"Pleasant dreams," he said, stepping back.

"And you." She mustered a smile in a vain attempt to hide her aching disappointment, before they made their way up the stairs to where her father was waiting.

 **~I~**

 **My lovely friend, prereader and all round 'hand-holder', NKubie, has asked me to put out a plug for what will probably be the very last TFMU, which is being held in Atlanta, GA this year from June 30th until July 1st. There is a Facebook group page for it called -** **TFMU: The Official TwiFic Meetup. All I can say is how I _wish_ I could go! I even checked the cost of flights from my far, far flung corner of the globe - $1800 USD to spend almost 30 hours on a plane! So, if you're close by and it won't cost you an arm and a leg, I urge you to go...you lucky people! **

**xxx Elise**


	42. Acquaintance

**Unlike last night's chapter, this one is very short, so I've combined two together. I've given up on the chapter numbers, as nothing lines up anymore, so it shouldn't be a problem.**

 **I'm glad you're enjoying the Edward outtakes. I was going to post the scene where he and Sir Charles 'become acquainted' from the palace while Bella was with the king, but then I discovered it is included here in a flash back! I totally agree with you guys...I should never have let the publishers convince me (not that I had much choice) to remove all the Edward POV scenes from the first 'book'. They make his behaviour so much more understandable. Ah well...I'm adding them back now.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Acquaintance**

With sleep unlikely, Edward called for his carriage. Slumped in the seat on the drive to his gentlemen's club, he tried to make sense of the momentous events of the day. It wasn't easy, as they tumbled over one another in their determination to be considered. Nor were his emotions under any better control. Being reunited with Bella was akin to having a great weight lifted from his shoulders, his joy knowing no bounds. The few minutes alone her father had granted them—an event he would have never foreseen—had barely whet his appetite for the woman he loved, the woman for whom he'd been ready to give up _everything_. He could have kissed her for hours . . . Holding her in his arms was a literal dream come true, except for the fact that everything about their shared past had been cast in a new light with the revelation that she was the daughter of a princess. His Bella! As to her unexpected offer, he didn't know what to think.

A harsh breath escaped his lips.

Of one thing he was certain . . . taking her up on it wasn't an option if he wanted to keep his hide intact. Becoming acquainted with her father at the palace, while Bella spent time with the King, had been every bit as daunting as he'd imagined. His gut churned when he recalled the encounter . . .

 _Sir Charles's pallor was alarming._ _It didn't take a physician to know the man wasn't yet fully recovered from the life-threatening injuries Hunter had inflicted. Not for the first time, Edward wished he had gotten his hands on the rogue before he had escaped the country. The disgraced baron would have thought twice about engaging in such treachery again after he was done with him._

 _Turning to the steward who had escorted them to the same palace drawing room where Edward ha_ _d cooled his heels for the previous fortnight, he requested two glasses of water._

 _"U_ _nless you would prefer something stronger?" he asked Sir Charles._

 _"_ _No, thank you. I shall need a clear head for our coming discussion. Although you might like to take something fortifying."_

 _Judging by the look on the older man's face, Edward decided he would be wise to abstain. With his heart hammering in his chest, he sought the words to form a suitable apology, but Sir Charles spoke first._

 _"_ _Before we address the more delicate issues at hand, I would like to begin by saying that you have my heartfelt thanks for keeping my daughter safe when I was unable to protect her."_

 _Edward stared at him blankly._

 _"_ _Isabella has enlightened me to the dangers she faced while she was forced to flee her home, along with your heroic interventions on her behalf," Sir Charles continued. "I cannot possibly put into words how grateful I am she escaped grievous injury. Nor can I express my relief at having her returned to me alive and well."_

 _"_ _You're very welcome, sir," Edward said after a brief hesitation. "It was my pleasure."_

 _"_ _So, I gather."_

 _Regretting his ill-chosen wording, Edward opened his mouth but was silenced with a sharp slice of Sir Charles's hand._

 _"_ _When I first became aware of the impossible situation in which my daughter found herself—and don't think for a moment I am unaware certain pressures were brought to bear on her during a time of great vulnerability—I was of a mind to see you severely punished._

 _"_ _I debated between having you horse-whipped; seeing you hung, drawn, and quartered and your body parts sent to the four corners of the Empire as a warning to other libidinous young gentlemen; or having you dipped in boiling tar and coated in feathers, but I ultimately decided a combination of all three were too good for you."_

 _Edward swallowed hard, not that he blamed the man for his threats. It was his sweet, innocent, and virginal daughter who had been taken advantage of, after all._

 _"B_ _ut it quickly became apparent that Isabella would be upset if I carried out even one such punishment." Sir Charles eyed Edward grimly. "Becoming convinced she is sincere in her profession of affection, I realised I'd have to find it within my heart to forgive you."_

 _He took another sip of his drink, while Edward decided that silence was the better part of valour. With a trembling hand, he reached for his own glass, regretting his decision not to have poured himself a fortifying libation after all._

 _"_ _Quite simply, Lord Masen, my daughter loves you."_

 _Sir Charles's words warmed Edward's heart, but he kept a sober expression._

 _"_ _She might be young, but I don't believe her attachment is fleeting. If you haven't already learned, you will soon discover Bella is a determined young lady. When her mind is made up it tends to stay that way."_

 _Edward waited, speaking only when Sir Charles remained silent._

 _"_ _While I'm aware my treatment of her speaks volumes to the contrary, I care a great deal for your daughter, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to prove my sincerity."_

 _Bella's father measured him with a long, assessing look. Appearing to reach some inner conclusion, he nodded his head once._

 _"_ _Relinquishing your titles would have been a grand gesture, but what I can't understand is why you didn't just come and talk to me before embarking on such a foolhardy path. Your commitment is not in doubt, but your intelligence appears to be in question."_

 _"_ _It seemed the logical course of action at the time." Edward resisted the urge to squirm like a schoolboy being addressed by his headmaster._

 _"_ _Yes, well." Sir Charles harrumphed. "Before I so much as consider an alliance, I must be confident you are worthy of Bella's affection and my trust. Can I place my daughter's future happiness into your safekeeping? Will you cherish her as she deserves, irrespective of fashionable opinion regarding the treatment of and expectations placed on one's bride? Will you be faithful to her always? Will you treat her with respect, honouring her above all others?"_

 _His rapid-fire demands did not set Edward on his heels but were in complete accord with his desires. Answering with determination, he vowed, "I will, every moment of every day."_

 _"_ _There is one more thing," Sir Charles said, his expression not softening one whit. "Every couple, even those fortunate enough to share a deep attachment, will have moments of discord."_

 _His eyes narrowed, and Edward caught a glimpse of the renowned officer lurking beneath the polished exterior. Recalcitrant subordinates must have shaken in their boots to be the recipient of such a look, and Edward was no exception._

 _"_ _Under no circumstances do I ever want to hear the choices my daughter was forced to make have been thrown back in her face or used against her, choices in which you played a significant part. Is that understood?"_

 _"_ _Perfectly." Edward swallowed hard. "I have yet to meet a braver, more admirable lady than your daughter, Sir Charles. I promise, on my word of honour, that I will treat her with the respect and consideration she deserves."_

 _Bella's father studied him for a moment longer._

 _"_ _Then we're in agreement," he said, and Edward's shoulders sagged._ _"Having said that, any decision we come to will need to be ratified by the King."_

 _"Which should be fairly straightforward now her heritage has been revealed."_

 _"Let's hope so." Sir Charles frowned. "Isabella_ _'s happiness is paramount, and I won't have her used as a political pawn."_

The carriage slowed to a halt, and Edward gathered his thoughts. Like her father, he only wanted Bella's best, but his confidence as to how that should be achieved had taken a battering in light of the King's lofty plans.

~I~

Edward spied Jasper playing billiards, his friend forfeiting the game when he approached.

"I expected you earlier."

"My plans changed. I should have sent word, but I didn't think of it. My head's in a spin." Edward kept his voice low as the two men made their way to a quiet corner of the crowded establishment.

"Your audience with the King didn't go well?"

"On the contrary." Edward blew out a long, slow breath. "Bella arrived at the palace while I was in an audience with the King, her father and my sister in tow. She came to plead with him on my behalf, and after meeting her, he gave us a blessing—of sorts. He's going to announce our betrothal at a ball in two weeks' time but only if Bella doesn't change her mind about wanting to marry me."

"I see." Jasper waited until they were seated and had drinks in hand to continue. "I can't imagine she'll renege after coming all this way. It's not like she has any other options."

"More than you'd think," Edward muttered.

"I don't understand." Jasper stroked his beard. "This is good news. Why aren't you rejoicing?"

 _Why indeed?_

Edward rested his elbows on his knees then looked at his friend.

"Bella's mother was a princess—French—one who escaped the _Terror_."

"Good God!" Jasper nearly shot out of his seat. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly. She's related to half the royal houses of Europe, our own sovereign included. I can count myself fortunate not to have been flogged and thrown into the Tower."

"I take it your request to marry her wasn't well received."

"Not particularly." Edward sighed.

"It can't be because her father is only an officer. With her mother's connection, she would have to be of a high enough standing—"

"Too high." Edward shook his head then brought his friend up to date with what had occurred at the palace. "I knew the King would be impressed by Bella . . . how could he not be? But I had hoped it would work to _our_ advantage, Bella's and mine, not that he'd want to use her to strengthen some foreign alliance. He told her she could be the queen of her own country one day."

Jasper's eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "How did she respond?"

"She insisted she has no interest in pursuing a royal alliance and accepted my proposal of marriage."

"Do you doubt her resolve?"

"It's the King's word I have reason to question. Bella seems quite determined that we should be together." Edward managed a small smile.

"Damnation." Jasper sat back. "I'm glad to hear she still cares for you, but why didn't she tell you who she was back at Worthington? You would have protected her—in a more acceptable manner than the one you chose, I might add."

"Because she didn't know about her royal connections. Sir Charles was planning on telling her before she had her debut this season, but Hunter showed up and—"

"She fled to Worthington, where you made her your mistress." Jasper eyed Edward wryly. "At least she wasn't raised a royal, though surely _that_ we would have discerned. I still can't believe we didn't recognise she was a lady, albeit one who grew up in obscurity."

Edward took another sip of his drink. Maybe that explained Bella's less than reserved demeanour. Most men of his acquaintance would have jumped at her offer to sneak out of her room and meet him for what could have only been a highly illicit tryst. But quite aside from the promises he had made to her father, a gentleman did not treat his future bride like a mistress, not even if she had once filled the role.

Which brought him to the confession Bella made in the palace courtyard before he proposed. It was true. She wasn't cold and unfeeling, a description he had attributed to the female members of society when informing her why he wasn't looking forward to marrying one.

"Do you no longer wish to wed the girl?" Jasper asked.

"Of course, I do. I'm just not sure how to proceed."

"In what way?"

Edward stared at the drink in his hand. "I don't know how to treat her now that I'm aware of her true status. Our previous relationship was characterised by a great deal of freedom—on my part, at any rate—for which I have apologised profusely. I can only imagine how deeply I offended her with my actions."

"Or so you assume."

"Assume?" Edward looked up. "She is not just a member of the gentry—as if that wouldn't be bad enough—she's an aristocrat."

"And there's the rub. As far as English gentlemen are concerned, blue-blooded ladies are too refined to appreciate the pleasures of the flesh."

"You don't agree?"

Jasper snorted. "I may spend an inordinate amount of time in the south keeping your sorry arse company, but I'm still a Scotsman. We like our women to have a little fire in their blood. After the lambasting your young lady gave me the day I questioned her motives, I believe she would fit in quite well in my home borough."

"What do you mean 'questioned her motives'?"

"I visited her rooms a few days before your father returned to Worthington." Jasper raised a hand when Edward went to stand. "Nothing untoward happened, I assure you. Her story didn't add up, and I was suspicious, that's all."

"You knew who she was?"

"No! I never thought for a moment she might be Hunter's runaway bride. I just didn't believe she was a servant. I suspected she was sent by one of your father's political opponents in an attempt to discredit you. Although I found it hard to imagine an experienced courtesan would disguise herself as a scullery maid."

Edward's racing heartbeat slowly returned to normal. He could only imagine Bella hadn't told him about Jasper's visit because she'd been frightened of his reaction. He deserved no less, but it galled to think she had not trusted him enough to say anything.

"What were your conclusions after speaking with her?"

His friend eased back in his chair now the danger had passed. "That Miss Brown, or rather I should say Miss Swan _—_ "

" _Lady_ Isabella, actually."

Jasper blinked. "Right . . . Lady Isabella seemed determined to sacrifice herself rather than see you harmed in any way."

Edward swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat.

"She gave me quite the tongue-lashing." Jasper's smile was tinged with admiration. "Dressed me down, in no uncertain terms, for assuming a girl of common heritage has no reputation to protect or that she would automatically welcome the attentions of a gentleman _._ "

A smile tugged at the corner of Edward's lips. "That sounds like Bella."

"She also gave me the distinct impression she had no intention of remaining as your mistress once you were wed."

A memory of the afternoon they had picnicked by the river flashed through Edward's mind. It was the occasion she had told him her opinion of gentlemen keeping both wives and mistresses, and he'd sensed he was losing her. Just as it had at the time, pain stabbed at his heart. He rubbed his chest, gesturing for his friend to continue when he hesitated.

"She didn't seem to think the role was honourable, even for one such as herself with precious few options available to her . . . or none that we were aware of. In hindsight, I can appreciate why she sided with the wife. Young ladies aren't supposed to know about mistresses."

Edward snorted. "Well, I certainly won't be keeping one now."

"Why would you want to?" Jasper frowned. "I thought Lady Isabella was everything you could ask for in a paramour?"

"She was . . . she _is_."

Those few, precious moments spent holding her in his arms had caused the memories of their time together—the ones Edward tried not to indulge himself with no matter how great the temptation—to overwhelm his best intentions. She'd detected his arousal, offering herself with the same sweetness he had taken advantage of at Worthington. It was what she thought he expected, which was hardly surprising after he had acted as if it was his damned right.

"You don't think she'll behave the same way now you know that she's a lady?" Jasper's tone was sympathetic.

"I'm worried that she will." Edward swirled the drink he'd been nursing before downing it in one swallow. "Bella's too generous for her own good. Plus, she's very . . . demonstrative," he added for want of a better word.

"Traits you appreciated when she was your mistress but are questioning now that she's to be your bride?"

"What? No. Well, maybe a little. Hell, I don't know." Edward rubbed the back of his neck.

"She's the same person you fell in love with." Jasper seemed bemused by Edward's confusion, his furrowed brow at odds with his smile.

"Yes, but treating her the way I did when I made her my mistress is out of the question."

"You must have done something right." Jasper shrugged. "She came all the way to London to save you from yourself, and she accepted your proposal. I'd say you can safely assume her feelings are not inconsequential. Have you considered what _she_ wants?"

"To please me." Edward's shoulders sagged.

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It is when she puts my needs ahead of her own. When I think of the demands I made upon her . . ."

Jasper huffed a breath. "We appear to be going around in circles my friend. Never mind. You will have plenty of opportunity to sort it out once you are wed. In the meantime, congratulations are in order, tentative ones at least. Now if you could just help me to convince your father to allow me to come courting your sister, I would be most appreciative."

Despite his melancholy, Edward managed a smirk. "Bella has come up with a solution, though I'm not sure what you'll think of it."

"Tell me."

"Very well." Edward recounted Bella's plan for the two of them to accompany her and Alice on a visit to a charity home for women.

"To learn the error of our ways?" Jasper called for another drink, his less-than-enthusiastic response giving Edward pause.

"Don't tell me you are still visiting brothels at the same time as wanting to pursue my sister?"

"No, it's not that." Jasper ran a hand through his dark golden hair. "I have heard stories about the institutions where prostitutes go to be rehabilitated, and they're not suitable places for ladies to visit."

Edward sighed, not needing the added complication. He understood her motivation and had promised to help her fulfil what she saw as something of a mission, but he wouldn't be party to anything that might put her in harm's way. "I'm not sure Bella can be talked out of the idea."

"She won't accept no for an answer?"

His brow furrowing, Edward considered the possibility. "Since I have promised to honour my wedding vows, I suppose that gives me the right to request she does also."

Jasper looked impressed. "You will insist she obey you if you decide her involvement in the charity inappropriate?"

"If it comes to that."

"Good luck!"

Edward pulled a face, imagining the fireworks that were sure to ensue. Still, it would be worth it to keep Bella safe.

"What's got you two in such fine form? Been winning at the tables?" A familiar but unwelcome voice interrupted their conversation. The owner's slurred speech indicated he had been imbibing a little too freely.

"Edgeley." Jasper shot Edward a warning glance. "When did you arrive in town?"

"Oh, you know me. I come and go as I please. What about you, Masen? You bring that little red-haired beauty with you, or did you grow tired of her after all?"

Edward surged to his feet, Jasper following suit and placing a restraining hand on his friend's arm.

"Steady on." Edgeley staggered back. "A right luscious bit of fruit that one. Can't blame a man for asking."

Edward's hands formed fists at his side. "But I _will_ blame you if I hear any rumours circulating about what you witnessed at Worthington."

"You're awfully defensive about a serving maid. Makes one wonder what you've got to hide?"

This threat was bound to arise, but Edward had hoped for some calm between storms. "A little less wondering and a little more discretion on your part, and you stand a better chance of survival."

Edgeley laughed. "I'm definitely a survivor, and I can be very discreet." He tapped his nose with his forefinger. "I know all sorts of things about all sorts of people. But I don't say a word . . . unless it suits me."

Edward reached for the man, dragging Jasper with him.

"'s orright." Edgeley evaded him with a nimble side step, leading Edward to suspect his drunkenness was an act. "Your secret's safe with me."

"It had better be. I'm an excellent shot, and if I call you out, you won't live to tell any more tales."

"Duelling is illegal." Edgeley sneered, though he took another step back. "You won't be able to protect the wench if you've had to make a run for the Continent. You're not the only one who likes redheads. I know any number of gentlemen who'd happily take your place in her bed . . . or bending her over whatever piece of furniture is handy. Isn't that what you were doing the day we came upon you in your study? You had her on your desk, as I recall."

"Good night, Edgeley." Jasper's grip on Edward's arm tightened. "It's time you were on your way."

"True." Edgeley's smile turned sly. "I'm off to a new place that caters to my tastes. I don't suppose either of you would care to join me? I'm sure a redhead could be found amongst the girls, or a wee, brunette lassie if that's your preference, Whitlock. No? Ah well, do give Miss Brown and Lady Alice my regards. I remember them both _very_ fondly." Backing away, he gave the two men a haughty salute before weaving his way through the crowd.

"Bloody hell," Edward muttered.

"My thoughts exactly." Jasper signalled for another drink.

"He's going to be trouble when the truth comes out, but he's right. If I challenge him to a duel, I shall have to make myself scarce afterwards, and cold-blooded murder of a peer could see me imprisoned."

Either way, Edward wouldn't be available to protect Bella, his highest priority.

 **~I~**

 **Quite an action packed chapter. First we have Edward's memories of Charles' colourful threats, then my Scottish Jasper (LOL! He's from the 'north' instead of the 'south' this time) trying to talk some sense into Edward regarding his views/expectations of common women versus 'ladies of quality'. Then Edgeley arrived to stir the pot!**

 **Until tomorrow,**

 **xx Elise**


	43. Wanton

**You guys are so lovely, and I thoroughly enjoy reading your comments and theories. Thank you!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Wanton**

Bella was at the palace, lost and alone. Stretched before her was an endless corridor, lined with paintings of long-dead kings and queens, their eyes peering at her in judgement.

"Will you look at the colour of her hair? Most unsuitable."

"Yes, and we all know what sort of girl she is, the _true_ nature of her character."

She tried to run from their cruel words, but her legs didn't seem to want to move.

"Ah, Princess Isabella." The King beckoned.

"But I am not a princess, Your Majesty," she said, bobbing a curtsy.

"You soon will be." He gestured to the robed and crown-wearing princes circling them.

"But you said I can marry Edward . . . I only want to marry Edward."

"We can't always have what we want, my dear."

Bella backed away from the princes' grasping hands, only to find herself in the middle of a vast ballroom, dressed in her maid's uniform, surrounded by a crowd of fashionably attired lords and ladies.

"She doesn't belong here." A fair-haired debutante looked down her nose at Bella. "She's not one of us."

"Where are the guards?" A regal matron demanded, and Bella turned and fled—straight into the arms of Lord Hunter.

"I will have what is mine." He reached for her mother's necklace.

"No! The pearls belong to me, not you!"

Running away as fast as she could, she found herself outside the door to Edward's study at Worthington.

"Come." His voice beckoned at her timid knock, and she entered in a rush.

"Edward! Thank heavens I have found you."

The soft glow from a fireplace showed him seated at his desk, his fingers drumming on the gleaming mahogany surface. He didn't rise to greet her.

"Edward?" Puzzled by the severity of his expression, she hesitated just inside the door.

"Come here." His voice was low and husky, but there was no denying his words were a command, not a request.

On trembling legs, she approached, halting a few feet from where he sat angled away from his desk.

"Closer." He gestured her forward until she was in the V of his legs. Standing, she was only a little taller than he was seated, and with a slight tug of the hand he had curved around the back of her neck, he brought her lips into alignment with his. The kiss was savage in its intensity and ended almost as soon as it began.

"And so, your punishment begins." His gaze roamed her body.

"Punishment?" Bella shivered. She'd only ever seen Edward angry with others, usually on her behalf. It had never been directed at her before. Glancing down, she saw the evidence of his arousal straining against his breeches and felt her own desire rising. "What have I done wrong?"

"Did you honestly think I would forgive your deception so easily?"

"I explained why I had to lie. I thought you understood." Her hands rose to clutch at his shoulders.

"Oh, I understand." He leaned forward so the words were carried on a tantalising breath against her ear. "I understand the blood that rages with passion through your veins is far from blue. You don't fool me _._ "

His eyes dropped to her suddenly bare chest and the hand that was cupped intimately around one of her breasts. Her nipple peaked at his touch, sweet sensation flooding her and a whimper escaping her lips.

"My point exactly, _Isabella._ " He drew out her name, making each syllable last for a long, fraught moment. "You can't hide your true nature."

"There is a problem with my responding to your touch?"

"Not if you were a common, lusty wench." He smiled before lowering his head to tease her breasts with his mouth.

She had gone for so long without his touch—grief-stricken and despairing of ever feeling it again—and she pressed forward. He drew her nipple into his mouth, suckling it with tongue and lips and gentle grazes of his teeth. Arching against him, Bella threaded her fingers through his hair. Then suddenly she was facing away from him, bent over the desk with her skirt bunched around her waist as he entered her from behind.

It had happened so suddenly, abruptly, that her mind reeled, even as her body readily accepted the invasion.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" Nuzzling the curve of her neck in time with his determined strokes, he kissed the sensitive skin.

"Oh, yes." There seemed no point denying the obvious.

"You like it when I take you on my desk?"

"I do," she whispered. "I like it very much." Pleasure pulsed low in her belly like flashes of lightning along her sensitised nerves. Holding her breath, she reached expectantly for the rapture she had only ever known with Edward, but to her dismay, his movements stilled.

"I shall tell you why you aren't offended by me treating you like this." He spoke softly in her ear. "It is because you are _not_ a true lady, are you Isabella? In fact, we both know you are thoroughly wanton!"

~I~

Bella awoke with a start, hot, flustered, and with her nightgown tangled around her legs. Quickly setting things to rights, she did her best to ignore the ache that pulsed between her thighs. If only the dream had lasted a little longer—well, the part _before_ Edward had stopped.

She had been so close to finding release, not that she was sure how she felt about accomplishing it in such a manner or with him portrayed so uncharacteristically. He would never do what he had done in the dream, taking her almost roughly while saying such horrid things.

Hugging her knees, Bella assured herself she wouldn't want him to either. After all, what would that say about her? She couldn't deny she enjoyed his lovemaking, and there was something very arousing about his commanding presence, but that didn't make her wanton. Did it?

Groaning, she fell back on the pillow and considered the varied meanings of the word.

Shameless.

She had certainly behaved that way in the dream, and in reality, on occasion _._ She supposed she should feel guilty about that, but the memories of her time with Edward were too precious to sully with regret.

Immoral.

That was difficult to argue against. After rejecting Edward's offers to find her a safe, respectable place of employment, she had surrendered willingly to his seduction. But they were to be married, if she had a say in the matter, a more than suitable method by which to rectify the situation. Of course, it would help if she remembered not to suggest they engage in improper behaviour before they were wed.

Lustful.

She could hardly dispute that description of her actions, but in light of Edward's general aura of masculinity, who could possibly blame her?

Did Edward?

He had apologised for the way he treated her when she was his mistress, assuring her he would never expect a wife to behave in such a manner. But she had enjoyed the things they'd done. She just needed to assure him of that fact, and he would realise there wasn't a problem—unless he really did believe her wanton. He had told her often enough that he didn't want to marry her, that her behaviour was more fitting for a mistress than a wife. She didn't doubt that he loved her; it was in regard to his expectations she was unsure.

Curling on her side, Bella recalled the other aspects of her dream before they flitted away. Edward seemed confident she would do well in the role of his marchioness, but it was obvious that, deep down, she feared disappointing him.

A whimper escaped her lips, and Angela entered the room.

"Are ye awake, Lady Isabella, or would ye like to sleep a little longer?"

"I shall rise now, thank you."

With no hope of falling back to sleep, Bella decided to join the gentlemen for an early breakfast. With Angela's assistance, she was soon attired in one of the lovely summer gowns she had brought with her from Worthington. The reflection of the coolly poised young lady looking back at her from the full length mirror boosted her confidence . . . a little.

Standing in the doorway to the breakfast room, Bella waited for Edward to notice her. A shiver coursed through her when he crossed to her side, his determined stride reminding her of the forceful stance her dream Edward had taken. The reality was every bit as handsome and shared the same commanding presence as the lover her fraught imagination had conjured. But his expression was warm, the tone of his greeting gentle if equally arousing in timbre.

"Bella, what a lovely surprise." He bowed over her hand but was careful not to allow his lips to touch the back of her fingers.

After curtsying, she stared up at him, momentarily lost for words as his nearness rekindled the desire simmering just beneath the surface of her skin. A quirk of his brow triggered her breathy response.

"Good morning, Edward. It's a pleasure to see you also."

His smile faded, his green eyes darkening to a deep emerald—another reminder of their dream encounter. Taking a step closer, his nostrils flared, and Bella whimpered at the erotic images bombarding her thoughts.

"Sweetheart?" He cocked his head, and she swayed towards him.

"Isabella, how lovely to see you up and about so early."

Carlisle's cheery greeting broke through the sensual haze clouding Bella's mind, jolting her back to her senses and location.

"I blame the habits acquired whilst working in your household for being awake at this unfashionable hour of the day," she said in a teasing fashion, hoping to distract him from her breathless response to his son's perfectly acceptable greeting.

Bella's father joined them, having reestablished his habit of rising early despite the serious injuries he'd received when he had been shot by Lord Hunter. She worried about him, that the journey and the previous day's revelations had been too much, but he looked better for a night's rest.

"How are you, my dear? Did you sleep well?" he asked.

Bella's eyes widened. After a moment's pause, she managed a stuttering reply. "Yes. Yes, of course."

They took their seats at the table where a sumptuous breakfast had been served. Bella wasn't hungry, but she filled her plate. The dream had left her feeling unsettled but attempting to explain the reason for her loss of appetite wasn't an option, not with her father and Carlisle present. If she had still been his mistress—and they had their privacy—Bella wouldn't have hesitated to talk to Edward about her concerns. But things were different now they were betrothed. Very different.

Once the older gentlemen were settled with an assortment of daily papers, Edward turned to her father.

"Sir Charles, I was wondering if Bella and I might take a stroll through the grounds? It's a pleasant morning, and the gardeners are attending to the flower beds." He gestured through the floor-length French windows that ran along the southern wall of the breakfast room, subtly alluding to the presence of a multitude of chaperones—of sorts.

"My appointment with Aunt Esme's couturier is not until eleven o'clock," Bella added.

"That's an excellent idea." Her father nodded after a barely perceptible pause. "I am assuming you will leave an exploration of the maze until you can share the experience with a larger number?"

Embarrassed by her father's inference Edward and she would behave inappropriately if given the slightest chance, Bella ducked her head. Although, truth be told, she would have done precisely that the night before if he'd been willing.

"You have my word, Sir Charles." Edward's tone was suitably sober, though the hint of a smile twitched his cheek.

Once out in the garden, Bella breathed in the floral scents and then exhaled with relief. Considering the way her days were being filled, she had a feeling her chances to converse alone with Edward would be few and far between. This opportunity was a gift, one she would savour. Edward walked quickly along the well-swept paths of Cullen House, and it was soon apparent he had a destination in mind—a garden bench shaded by a climbing rose bush.

"What an idyllic setting." Bella tried not to think of other garden benches they had sat upon, invariably with her on his lap.

"Do you think it's acceptable?" He looked back towards the mansion. "We're a little hidden from sight but not overly so."

She smiled. "Papa can seem severe, but I'm sure he doesn't mind us spending time together with people around and in clear view."

"Good." Sitting close enough for their knees to brush, Edward clasped her hands in his.

"Now tell me what was bothering you this morning when I first greeted you. I was worried you were going to faint. Are you absolutely certain you are not with child?"

Bella's brows shot up.

"As sure as I can be. You were careful, and my, er, natural bodily functions have continued uninterrupted."

Edward's chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry to have to ask. It shouldn't have been an issue until after we were married, in which case you being with child would have been cause for great rejoicing. Not that I wouldn't appreciate some time alone together before we start a family of our own."

Summoning her courage, she met his gaze head on. "I don't mind."

"You don't mind my asking, or you don't mind if we wait a while to have a child after we're wed?"

"I don't mind you asking. I don't mind waiting to have a child." Heat flushed her cheeks as she considered the various methods they could utilise to ensure such a delay. "And I don't mind that there's a _need_ for you to ask before the wedding." Edward sat back, and she rushed to clarify. "If we had met and become betrothed under normal circumstances, our relationship would have progressed in a very different fashion to the way it did."

"And you have a problem with that?"

"No, it's just . . ." Bella studied their joined hands before looking up. "Once we were wed, I would have thought it necessary to pretend _not_ to enjoy your attentions."

"And you think I would have continued on with my original plan to keep my wife at a dispassionate distance while enjoying a rewarding relationship with my mistress?"

She nodded, her muscles tense.

"Bella . . ." Edward slowly shook his head. "You completely underestimate the strength of your allure."

"I do?"

"You most definitely do, and you have nothing to fear. I have promised to honour my wedding vows. You have my word on it _._ "

"That's good to hear." Bella forced a smile, frustrated that he had missed the point she was trying to make. While she appreciated he would be a faithful husband, she was no closer to knowing if he would approve of her being a demonstrably passionate wife.

"Now tell me what was bothering you this morning. Are you feeling unwell?" he prompted when she said no more.

"No, I had a dream last night . . . an unsettling dream," she admitted, eyeing him cautiously.

"Unsettling? In what way?"

Bella looked down at their hands again, wondering how much she dared disclose. "It revealed what I already know, I suppose. That I am concerned about my suitability to be your marchioness."

"Ah, sweetheart." Edward ducked his head, so she couldn't avoid his gaze. "There's no need to worry. I have complete confidence in your abilities."

"Thank you," she murmured, wishing she could be as certain.

"Was that all that was bothering you?"

Reluctant to repeat the more salacious aspects of her dream, she hesitated. Part of Edward's apology had included his horror at having "taken a lady" on his desk in broad daylight. It wasn't difficult to imagine his reaction if she admitted dreaming about him making love to her from behind while she was bent over that very same desk.

"No, that was all."

"Are you sure? You have nothing to worry about, Bella _._ I promise I shall keep you safe."

She managed a wan smile but decided not to tell him about seeing Lord Hunter in her dream. The man was no longer a threat, and she didn't want Edward to think her foolish.

"Did you dream of me at all?" he asked.

She blinked. "Maybe."

"Was it _pleasant_?"

There was no mistaking the hunger in his eyes, and while Bella's breath quickened, she wasn't sure how to respond. He had looked at her with desire the night before and then been shocked by her offer to meet him.

"I shall take that as a yes," he said, his eyes darkening while his thumbs traced circles on the back of her gloveless hands _._ "Would you care to share the details?"

A whimper escaped her lips, but she held firm.

"Not even a hint?" He cocked his head in that adorable way of his. "Please?"

"Oh, if you insist." Her shoulders slumped. "We were in your office at Worthington, and I was dressed as a maid."

"And?"

"And I really don't think I should say any more." Bella's face flamed, and she rued her tendency to blush. Edward didn't seem to mind, raising a hand to softly caress her cheek.

"But you must tell me now. I'm agog."

"Maybe later . . . after we're wed," she whispered.

"Why not before?" He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, and her resolve crumbled.

"Because we lay together. Well, we weren't actually _laying,_ as we were on your desk, or rather I was. Like that other time . . . but different. It was very pleasant, but also rather shocking, and I'm not sure you would approve of what we did." His mouth dropped open, and she quickly added, "It was only a dream, so not real, of course."

"Of course." Scowling, Edward sat back and glanced towards the house. To her disappointment, he made no further comment, releasing her hands to fist his own upon his thighs.

Bella huffed a breath. Only the night before he'd said he valued her openness, but if he was going to take offence at every little thing, she would keep her mouth shut in future.

 **~I~**

 **I'm not a fan of dreams in stories, but I have to admit to enjoying the one above. I hope you did also. ;)**

 **As for Edward, I think we can all agree Sir Charles was right, and he's a bit of a dunderhead. Thankfully, we get to hear his perspective next chapter . . . along with a bit more Scottish wisdom from Sir Jasper, whom, along with AnakinsMom, I would rather enjoy seeing in a kilt. *fans self at the thought***

 **xx Elise**

 **PS: Come join my Facebook Group, Elise de Sallier's Stories, and check out the gorgeous new banner Fallingsnow Winter made for Innocence. It's wonderful!**


	44. Different

**I hope you're all enjoying your weekend. Edward is a little slow on the uptake...but he will get there. ;)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Different**

Spending hours being fitted for an extraordinary array of gowns, with the endless choices to be made regarding fabrics and styles, soon lost its appeal. While the offerings were undeniably beautiful, Bella couldn't conceive of requiring anywhere near the number of ball gowns, evening gowns, cloaks, day dresses, pelisses, riding habits, bonnets, shoes, bags, gloves, and all the other accoutrements her mentors insisted she would need in the coming weeks.

"Fashionable society will be flocking to make your acquaintance once your relationship to the King is made public."

Esme's intention was not to be unkind, but her words caused a feeling of dread to settle in Bella's stomach.

"Even without knowing about your royal connections, the ladies of the _ton_ are atwitter over the opportunity to meet the courageous young lady who outwitted the dastardly Lord Hunter and survived an unimaginable ordeal, masquerading as a servant." Alice's flair for melodrama imbued her description of events with a theatrical tone.

Bella already felt like she was playing a part, one for which she feared she'd been miscast. There were times she thought living up to her new, aristocratic role was harder than adjusting to being a servant. Adding to her woes, her plan to keep that aspect of her adventure a secret had fallen by the wayside, with gossip now running rife in all spheres of society. Journalists had begun loitering around Cullen House as soon as news leaked Sir Charles Swan and his daughter were in residence.

Bella could only assume that the servants Carlisle brought with him from Worthington Hall had divulged the tale, which was hardly surprising. What was unexpected was the sympathetic nature with which the story had been reported . . . to date. She worried someone would eventually tell the truth rather than the sanitised and, frankly, implausible tale Carlisle had concocted, that Edward had known all along who she was and but had kept her identity a secret in order to keep her safe.

"Ye don't need to worry," Angela said one evening while she was helping Bella dress for dinner. She went on to assure her of the staff's staunch loyalty to the Duke and his household, of which Bella was now considered an integral part.

"For them to discover the pretty lass working in their midst is practically a princess and related to the King . . . well, everyone's proud as punch to 'ave been involved in keeping ye safe. And then there's yer impendin' betrothal to Lord Masen. Downstairs are just waitin' for the announcement to celebrate and toast yer 'appiness. It's like something out of a fairy tale, Lady Isabella, and ye've made them all a part of it. There won't be any nasty gossip comin' from that quarter, I can guarantee it. The servants lucky enough to work for His Grace will defend yer 'onour to their dying breath, as will Ben and meself."

Touched by her speech, Bella couldn't resist the urge to embrace the girl. The maid only allowed it for a moment before shooing her mistress off with an embarrassed dismissal of her worthiness.

"You were a good friend to me when I thought I'd lost everything, Angela."

"Aye, and ye've been a good friend to me." Angela's shy smile faded, and Bella cocked her head to the side.

"What is it?" she asked when her friend remained silent.

"Ye'll still do what ye said ye would, back at Worthington?"

"Help girls who have been hurt?"

Angela nodded, and Bella thought back to the morning she'd first heard her friend's terrible tale, her heart aching for what her friend had been through. She had been reeling from Edward's seduction and the shock of finally understanding the inferences people around her had been making. But hearing of the dreadful abuse her young friend had endured when she was just a girl had brought her own troubles into stark perspective.

"I am _determined_ to do what I can to help, regardless of my position in society."

"Oh, I'm so glad to 'ear that." Angela breathed a big sigh. "Yer going to be so busy, what with practically being a part of the King's family, but I knew ye wouldn't forget yer promises."

"Never," Bella said, reminded of the one Angela had made to accompany her when she'd thought she might have to flee abroad. Theirs was a true friendship, and as far as Bella was concerned, nothing would change that, not her station, marriage, or fortune. After dinner that night she asked Edward if Angela and Ben might be able to stay with her after they were wed.

"Whatever you desire," he said.

His willingness to oblige her was a source of relief, although what she really wanted was to spend time with him alone. Unfortunately, it would have been asking too much to expect her father to grant them such liberties again. Their interlude in the garden was a singular event, one that ended on an awkward note with her stammering an apology and his assuring her it wasn't necessary.

Bella was unconvinced. Edward acted differently towards her now that she was his betrothed and not his mistress, more reserved. Of course, that was only to be expected, his manner perfectly acceptable . . . for a traditional beau.

Things would be better once they were wed.

~I~

With a sigh, Edward put the report he had been reading aside. His estate manager appeared to have things well under control, but he missed taking a hands-on approach to the running of Masen Park, especially the breeding programme that was producing some of the finest hunters in the region. Bella liked to ride, or so she had admitted when he had questioned her about her real upbringing—daughters of innkeepers were not afforded the luxury of learning to ride side-saddle, so she had necessarily kept that from him. Between his commitments to the current parliamentary debate and preparations for the King's ball, he'd not had time to find her a suitable mount. He would rather choose one from amongst his own stock, but it would be some weeks, possibly months, before they were able to retire to his country estate. Once their betrothal was announced, they would need to wait the proscribed weeks until they could wed. Quickly, quietly, and with a minimal of fuss was Edward's preference—Bella's, too, he assumed _._ Although sometimes he wondered how well he knew the woman he loved.

His confusion was not her fault. She'd had no choice but to live a lie at Worthington, first as a maid, then while conforming to Edward's image of the perfect mistress in exchange for his protection. Now she was having to adapt to an entirely new role. He'd have liked to have been introduced under conventional circumstances, to discover her temperament and tastes when she wasn't living under a cloud of fear, anxiety, or expectation.

Bella's admission that she didn't regret the way they'd met had taken him aback. Not to mention her reference to dreaming of them engaging in an intimate act, one she had described as pleasant but also shocking and something of which he would not approve. Edward shook his head. What could be more shocking than the things he had already required of her?

He couldn't deny he was curious, having enjoyed any number of dreams featuring Bella in the starring role. He wouldn't have hesitated to indulge his salacious fantasies when she was his mistress, the thought causing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat. But she was to be his wife, and it would be asking too much. Wouldn't it?

"Problems at home?" Jasper gestured to the reports on Edward's desk, both men at loose ends with the ladies busy with the never-ending fittings for gowns and fripperies necessary for those of their station.

"No, all's well." Edward leaned back in his chair. "What of your estates? Is your father pressuring you to return?"

"Not without a bride." Jasper grimaced. "I've been told, in no uncertain terms, to find a bonny English lass of high standing, with a respectable dowry and congenial disposition, to increase the standing of the clan."

"And you've chosen Alice?"

"You question your sister's suitability?"

Edward laughed. "Not in the least. I'm just not sure _congenial_ is a word I'd have chosen to describe her. Managing, impetuous, strong-willed—"

"Passionate?"

Edward's expression sobered. He was glad that his father had given permission for Jasper to come courting Alice—after taking a leaf out of Sir Charles's book and threatening to skin him alive if he behaved inappropriately. But he was uncomfortable thinking of his sister as being of marriageable age, no matter how eager she seemed to secure Jasper's affection. As for her experiencing passion . . .

He shuddered, and Jasper shook his head.

"I take it you are still struggling with the idea of blue-blooded ladies behaving in a red-blooded fashion?"

"A little." Edward shrugged. "I agree that Bella and Alice deserve better than the conventional marital experience typical for those of our class. A husband at least has the expectation of finding, if not love, at least some degree of affection outside the marriage bed, an option unavailable to his wife."

"Not according to Tanya." Jasper smirked.

"True," Edward said without inflection. His anger at her deception was fading now that he was free to marry the woman of his choosing.

A lady of impeccable breeding, Tanya had had no more intention of honouring her wedding vows than Edward would have if they'd wed.

"I'm not saying her 'what's good for the gander is permissible for the goose' approach is ideal," Jasper continued. "I can't see too many husbands tolerating their wives engaging in dalliance."

"Of course not."

"But it proves the point that high-born ladies are equally capable of passion, given the opportunity."

"My father certainly seems to have found something with Esme." Edward shook his head, never having thought to make such an admission. "His face lights up whenever she comes into the room. I don't believe I have ever seen him happier."

"Nor I you when you were spending time with your _Miss Brown_ back at Worthington."

At Jasper's pointed look, Edward's chest heaved with a drawn-out sigh. "I have promised her I shall be an exemplary husband, but I need to work out what the role entails. I'm beginning to suspect society's dictates and Bella's preferences might not coincide."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily _._ " Edward had been hesitant to give the possibility consideration, as it seemed self-serving in the extreme. Not to mention fraught with the potential for abuse.

There was no denying Bella was a passionate young woman. The far-from-ordinary circumstances in which she'd found herself had created the opportunity for her to explore a side of her personality she'd have otherwise suppressed. While Edward wasn't about to applaud the part he had played in her physical awakening, it was clear the notion he had readily accepted—that the females of his class were intrinsically different to those of the lower, and therefore incapable of experiencing physical desire—was flawed. Which didn't mean _everything_ he had done was acceptable in terms of how a husband should treat his wife.

"Have you considered you might be able to enjoy the best of both worlds?" Jasper's query snapped Edward from his reverie. "Marriage to a lady who meets all the necessary requirements for a marchioness—exceeds them, in fact _—_ whom you also desire?"

"I am considering it now." Nodding slowly, Edward's lips curved in the beginnings of a smile.

 **~I~**

 **See? He's getting it . . . slowly. :)**

 **Our lovely kids gave us a very generous accommodation voucher for his 60th birthday, so we're off to spend tomorrow night somewhere fancy. Yay! I'll try to post another chapter in the morning (about 12 hours from now), as I'll be out of touch then until Monday night.**

 **Thanks for your continued support.**

 **xx Elise**


	45. Duty

**This is one of my favourite chapters in the revised edition of this story. It's choc full of some fascinating history and gives some insights into the surprising moral and political views of the time. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Duty**

Bella clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking, thankful her gloves absorbed the dampness caused by her sweaty palms. Sharing morning tea with Queen Adelaide was a civilised undertaking but cause for apprehension nonetheless.

Twenty-seven years the King's junior, the then Princess Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen had met her husband, a duke and younger son of King George III, a week prior to their wedding. The marriage had been arranged when it became apparent he would ascend to the throne and was in need of a legitimate heir.

Feeling a certain affinity with the King's mistress, Bella had made discreet enquiries before her visit, wanting to know what had happened to the woman with whom William had cohabited for twenty years. She had been saddened to learn the self-titled Mrs Jordan, an Irish actress, had been put aside when the then duke's financial needs had forced him to seek a wealthy heiress for a wife—one willing to accept the ten illegitimate children he adored as part of their household. This was long before he was heir to the throne, and there had been no takers. That Adelaide had welcomed his children into her home was considered testament to the lady's virtuous nature. Along with her determination to restore the English Court's reputation to one of piety and conservatism, she channelled her energies into various charitable pursuits.

"Do be wary, Lady Isabella," the Queen warned when Bella shyly told her about her particular area of charitable interest. "While an admirable cause, it is hardly a suitable charity for a lady of refinement to attach her name."

"I appreciate your concern, Your Majesty," Bella said, cautiously defending her stance. "But many young women in service are subject to dreadful abuse. Then there are the girls taken off the street and forced into a life of prostitution from which there is little to no hope of escape, a practice virtually condoned by our current system of laws."

The Queen tutted. "Come now. A Christian nation would never allow such a travesty to prevail."

"But it does." Bella forgot herself and spread her hands in her enthusiasm for the topic. "The age of consent for girls is only _ten_. The punishment for rape when the victim is a commoner is a fine paid to the girl's family. A _fine_ , Your Majesty, one rarely enforced and certainly not if the perpetrator of the crime is a member of the gentry."

Queen Adelaide didn't respond straight away, taking a moment to sip her tea from a fine bone china cup.

"It is considered the responsibility of penitent gentlemen to make amends for their actions by supporting such causes. Ladies are not supposed to be aware of such things, and if we become aware, we are to leave it to those in power to deal with."

"But they are not dealing with it," Bella said, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. "The system weighs too heavily in favour of the men who find enjoyment in bedding young girls."

"You go too far, Lady Isabella." The Queen eyed her sternly. "This is a matter for the Church and, if absolutely necessary, the House of Lords to deal with. What you are advocating is major reform, and one must be careful reform does not lead to revolt."

"Surely, revolt is more likely to happen where there is no reform?" Bella asked. "My hope is to bring awareness of this dreadful problem to those with the power to change the laws that underpin it."

"Young ladies should occupy their time with acquiring a husband, the raising of children, and _suitable_ charitable pursuits, not the moral governance of an empire."

"But who will speak up for these girls?" Bella put her teacup down and sat forward. "They are powerless to help themselves."

"I am sure there are any number of respectable roles they could choose rather than embracing a life of licentiousness."

Bella wanted to argue that a ten or twelve-year-old girl, or even twenty-year-old woman, forced to work in a brothel, or a maid raped and impregnated by her gentleman employer, could hardly be accused of embracing their tragic circumstances. But she tempered her words with a sigh.

"Thank you for your counsel, Your Majesty. I will endeavour to be discreet in my efforts to assist those girls who have _not_ chosen such a life, but had it forced upon them."

The Queen eyed her shrewdly. "It would seem your experiences have affected you profoundly, Lady Isabella. If you feel you must act upon the dictates of your conscience, I recommend you exercise caution. There are those members of the upper _ton_ who would delight in seeing you stumble."

"But why?" Bella had heard as much from Alice and Esme, and she found the idea perplexing. "They don't even know me."

"I am afraid when one has beauty, position, and wealth—not to mention the heart of a particularly handsome and eligible young man—envy is unavoidable."

Bella cringed at the knowledge the Queen must know the story behind her betrothal to Edward.

"I thought marrying for love was frowned upon by the _ton_."

"It might appear that way." The regal lady's tone was wry. "But while forming an alliance that is financially, socially, and politically advantageous is one's undisputed duty, it is not possible to completely stifle the desires of the heart. You, my dear, have managed something few members of our class or gender ever achieve—a romantic attachment with a highly suitable candidate. Although my husband would prefer you aimed a little higher."

"Becoming a marchioness is more than enough for me, Your Majesty."

"Your willingness to forgive is admirable, Lady Isabella." The Queen's expression sobered. "A young woman who has been so thoroughly compromised has little choice in the matter, but it is good to see you embracing your Christian duty."

"My duty to marry the man who took advantage of me?"

Her Majesty nodded, and Bella struggled to maintain a respectful tone.

"While Lord Masen sincerely regrets his actions, his intention was to protect me. He treated me with kindness and respect. I would not be marrying him otherwise."

"Wouldn't you?" The Queen arched a brow. "Beware of indulging in excessive wilfulness, my dear. It has been many a maiden's downfall, and I fear you are highly prone. His Majesty harbours similar concerns."

"I regret having to disappoint His Majesty, but in my heart, I feel I am married to Lord Masen already."

"The justification of many a mistress," the Queen said flatly, and Bella winced. "I wouldn't worry, if I were you." Her Majesty's expression softened. "I am sure His Majesty's pique will be forgotten . . . eventually. Just don't forget to name one of your sons after him."

Bella looked forward to bearing Edward's children, but her smile faded when she saw the sadness in the older woman's eyes. Despite being chosen for the purpose of providing her husband with an heir, Queen Adelaide had been tragically unable to do so. Her first babe, a daughter, had arrived prematurely, two more girls died during their first years of life, and the twin boys she had delivered eight years prior to her husband's coronation had been stillborn. At forty, and with the King now sixty-seven, the likelihood of her bearing him an heir seemed slim.

"I will pray our Heavenly Father blesses Lord Masen and your union with healthy children."

The Queen's tone was without rancour, and Bella thanked her for her kindness. She almost blurted they would probably wait a while, as Edward had said he was keen for them to enjoy some time together before starting a family. But the comment would have been insensitive and raised questions as to how a deliberate ordering of events was possible.

Gentlemen were not supposed to deny their wives the opportunity to become with child. And young ladies were most certainly not supposed to be aware of methods that put the timing of their confinements into their own hands.

"Typically, I would consider it my duty to instruct you in the behaviour expected of a young bride by her husband on their wedding night."

The Queen raised the topic Bella had suspected might be on the agenda, and her shoulders hunched.

"But I gather it is more than a little late for that particular conversation?"

"I am afraid so, Your Majesty."

"In that case, I shall dispense with the advice I usually impart—that if one finds one's husband disagreeable or the execution of one's duty unpleasant, one should lie back and think of England." The queen's tone was exceedingly dry, and Bella's gaze shot to her face. "Considering Lord Masen's undeniable appeal, not to mention the previous nature of your association, I do not believe focusing on your duty to king and country will be necessary. In fact, I imagine you shall much prefer to lie back and think of your husband."

Bella's smile when she left the palace was bittersweet. While she was looking forward to doing exactly what the great lady had suggested, she would actually prefer taking a less passive role.

 **~I~**

 **Thank goodness some views have changed for the better! What did you think of Queen Adelaide? I thought Bella was quite brave.**

 **I'll be back in a couple of days, as I'm off to enjoy some time with my darling hubby.**

 **xxx Elise**


	46. Innocence

**Thank you for all the best wishes. My darling hubby and I had a lovely 'mini break'. We were planning on going to some botanic gardens I've always wanted to visit where you can play mini golf, something I enjoy. But a thunderstorm caused a change of plans, so we went to see Infinity Wars instead. Wow! What an amazing movie, but oh, the feels!**

 **Sorry for missing the 'Lisa' at the beginning of last chapter. The first paragraph of each chapter is formatted differently for publication, so the 'find and replace' option doesn't work. I posted it in such a hurry yesterday morning that I missed the name change. It's all fixed now. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Champion**

"Any word of Edgeley?"

Edward drew Jasper aside, not wanting his father or Sir Charles to overhear the conversation.

"Not yet, but he must have seen the papers. He's made himself scarce, but whether that's due to your threats or because he's avoiding his creditors . . ." Jasper shrugged. "One thing is certain; his gambling is getting out of hand. Not unlike someone else we know."

The two men exchanged looks.

"Do you think Edgeley's in contact with Hunter?"

"I doubt it. The consensus is Hunter's long gone. America, Australia, the West Indies. He'd be a fool to remain in England."

Edward's fists clenched. "A part of me wishes he had, so I could beat him senseless for what he put Bella and her father through. But since that's not an option, I shall have to be content with making sure she is never put at risk again."

"Speaking of risk, is she still determined to visit a house of mercy?"

"There's a misnomer if ever I have heard one," Edward muttered. "I've had my man look into the various female penitentiaries in the city, and you were right. They are the last places I would allow Bella or Alice to visit."

"I'd heard they were cheerless places, but I didn't realise the women were harshly treated."

Edward grimaced. "Not as harshly as they were in their previous lives, but they don't call them 'penitents' for nothing. It's a sordid business, one I would rather our ladies knew nothing about."

"It's a little late for that."

"True." Edward rubbed the back of his neck, his guilt never far from the surface. If supporting her in this endeavour was part of _his_ penance, he would endure it with as much stoicism as he could muster, but not to her detriment. He was determined to keep her safe, even if that meant protecting her from her own compassionate nature.

"She agreed to wait until after we're officially betrothed to pursue the matter."

"Which means your time is up." Jasper smiled, but Edward was unable to muster one in response. The King was supposed to announce his betrothal to Bella at the ball they were to attend that evening, but he had his doubts it would occur. If the sovereign reneged on his commitment to honour Bella's wishes regarding her choice of spouse, then preventing her from visiting a charity home would be the least of his concerns.

"I wouldn't worry." Jasper clapped Edward on the shoulder. "Isabella seems a stalwart sort, not easily influenced by promises of grandeur. If she hasn't changed her mind about wanting to marry you by now, I doubt she is going to. You will end up together one way or another."

"It's the 'other' I'm worried about."

"On the bright side," Jasper added, his tone droll. "If the worst happens, and the two of you are banished from polite society, you could stop fretting about the _ton's_ expectations and live as you please. From what I have observed, I think Isabella might prefer it."

"You have noticed the change in her demeanour?"

"It's difficult to miss. She seems . . ."

"Reserved? Anxious? A far cry from the effervescent girl who took to being my mistress with aplomb?"

Jasper eyed Edward ruefully. "You _have_ calmed her fears in regards to your expectations for once you are wed?"

"I've tried." Edward grimaced. "But the more I try to assure her I have no intention of treating her the way I did when she was my mistress, the more she withdraws."

Jasper swore, earning a surprised look from both Edward's father and Sir Charles.

"My apologies." He bowed his head in their directions before turning on his friend, his voice low but determined. "For an intelligent, educated fellow, Masen, you can be an empty-headed fool."

"In what way?"

"I thought you'd come to your senses and recognised that a lady can be both virtuous and appreciate the pleasures of the flesh, those permissible within marriage, at any rate."

"I have." Edward shrugged, bewildered by his friend's outburst.

"Have you told Isabella as much? It sounds to me you have been so busy informing her what you _don't_ expect of her, you have forgotten to assure her what _she_ can expect from you. She probably thinks you want her to conform to society's traditional expectations once you are wed."

Edward scowled. Bella couldn't possibly be under such a misapprehension. He was shockingly demonstrative towards, holding her hand whenever he got the chance. Then there was the kiss they'd shared the night her father had granted them a few moments together . . . a massive departure from convention. It wasn't as if he could do more to show her how he felt. Blast. He would have to find a way to _tell_ her.

Intent on questioning Jasper further, Edward opened his mouth, but a movement caught his attention. Esme, Alice, and Bella appeared at the top of the landing, and he took an involuntary step forward.

"I'm not sure what she's worried about." Jasper chuckled. "Careful. You'll start drooling any minute."

Jasper elbowed him in the side, and Edward snapped his mouth shut. While all three ladies looked splendid, dressed as they were in the height of current fashion, his eyes remained fixed on Bella as she made her way down the sweeping staircase. Her rich, red curls were piled high upon her head, the betrothal gifts he'd given her a few days prior complementing the elegant arrangement. The diamond and pearl tiara, pearl drop earrings, and pearl bracelet matched the necklace that had once belonged to her mother. It gleamed against the creamy expanse of her chest, drawing his eyes to the décolletage revealed by the low neckline of her ivory gown.

She looked astonishing, every bit the princess she might have been had circumstances been different.

Edward had never expected marriage to him would be a step down for Bella. He didn't want to add depriving her of her true place in society to his list of sins, but she'd assured him she wanted nothing more than to be his marchioness. Considering the uncivilised direction of his thoughts, it was a good thing, as he feared for the safety of any gentleman—prince or otherwise—who dared try and claim her for his own.

"Good evening, my lady." He bowed over her hand when she met him at the bottom of the stairs. "You look beautiful."

"Why thank you, Lord Masen. So, do you." The faint pink blush he adored graced her cheeks. "I mean, you look very handsome," she added with a shake of her head.

He offered her his arm, and they turned to greet the other couples. Edward made sure to compliment both his sister, who looked lovely in her light green gown, and Esme, who wore the renowned Worthington diamonds to stunning effect. The King's cleverly worded announcement, inviting the cream of society to a ball in honour of a new addition to his family, was thought by most to be referring to the latest royal duchess. A gracious lady, Edward's new stepmother had assured them she wasn't concerned about sharing the glory of the occasion with her soon-to-be daughter-in-law _or_ the fact that once news of Bella's relationship to the crown was announced, her own introduction to society would be overshadowed.

"I shall be glad to step back and allow Isabella centre stage," she had said when the matter was raised.

Bella had smiled wanly and looked to her father for comfort, _not_ Edward. A telling response.

While the uncertainty of their situation meant a degree of anxiety was inevitable, he had known for a while that something _else_ was bothering Bella. They'd had no problem communicating when sharing a bed every night at Worthington, but now it was as if they were both walking on eggshells, each afraid of offending the other. Hopefully, Jasper had the right of it. If Bella was feeling insecure regarding his marital expectations, _not_ because she was apprehensive about him making inappropriate demands but because she was worried he would not meet _her_ physical needs, putting her fears to rest shouldn't be a problem.

After assisting her to don the gold cloak that matched her stunning gown, Edward took his place beside Bella in the carriage with Sir Charles. Bella's father had arranged to collect Penelope on their way to the palace, having made no secret of his interest in his friend's younger, widowed sister. Edward was quietly hopeful Sir Charles's preoccupation with his aunt would work to Bella's and his benefit, allowing them the opportunity for some much needed, if necessarily clandestine, time alone.

After collecting Penelope, they made their way to the palace, the carriage forced to wait for some time as they queued with the one hundred-or-so guests invited to the pre-ball dinner. In no hurry to be parted from Bella, as he expected would occur upon their arrival, Edward edged closer. She moved restlessly in her seat, pushing her cloak back from her shoulders and fanning her face.

"You're not worried, are you?"

"Me, worried?" Bella's laugh had an edge of hysteria to it. "I have only been to a couple of country dances, and now I'm to be presented to the crème of society at a ball held by the King in _my_ honour where he may or _may not_ choose to announce our betrothal, potentially creating a dilemma of mammoth proportions. Whatever would I be worried about?"

"You have been strong for this long. Don't lose heart now."

"I shall try not to." Bella reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. It was a bold gesture on her part, one he sadly acknowledged she had not ventured in some time. With her father engaged in conversation with his aunt, Edward took the risk of lifting her hand to his mouth for a brief kiss.

"I shall be with you every step of the way. I promise _._ "

"What about when you are dancing with all the sophisticated young ladies who would take my place in a heartbeat?" Bella's attempt at a teasing tone fell well short, and Edward frowned.

Did she not understand the place she held in his affections?

"Since I have no desire to dance with anyone but you, I shall gladly stand on the sidelines for the entire evening . . . other than for the waltzes you have promised to dance with me and no other." He eyed her with mock sternness, hoping to ease her tension.

"But that wouldn't be at all acceptable," she said, her tone less than convincing. "You have a duty to dance with other ladies besides me."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Oh, I'll mind." She looked up at him through her long lashes. "I expect to be eaten alive with jealousy, but as long as you return home with me at the end of the night, I shan't complain."

Edward doubted Bella's words had been intentionally provocative, but the images they inspired stole his breath. His found himself staring at the shadowed valley between her breasts as memories of kissing them—and every other inch of her body—bombarded his senses.

"Edward?" she whispered, and he lifted his gaze to her parted lips. When she slowly licked them, leaving a glistening trail on the plump, pink flesh, he found himself thinking of all the other things he knew she could do with her very clever tongue.

"Bella," he murmured. Forgetting their location, he reached for her, the sound of her father clearing his throat stilling Edward's hand.

"Waiting can be quite a trial, can't it?" Sir Charles chuckled.

"Papa!" Bella eyed her father pointedly before sending Edward an embarrassed glance.

"These dratted queues." Her father gestured out the window. "It's one of the things I hate about city life. Invitations to dinners and balls one would rather not attend but can't refuse and then interminable waits to get in the door."

Penelope laughed. "Oh, come now, Charles. You were just telling me how much you are looking forward to seeing your daughter presented tonight and how you wished you were up to escorting her out on the ballroom floor."

"Another time." He smiled at Bella, and she managed a small one in return.

"You're not nervous about the dancing, are you?" Edward asked, risking a gentle stroke of her arm once her father's attention returned to Penelope.

"I've only danced in public a couple of times, and never the waltz. I'm worried I shall make a mistake in front of all those important people."

"Sweetheart, you are going to be fine." He held her gaze. "I wouldn't miss this opportunity to dance with you for the world. And while I can't say I'm looking forward to watching you be partnered by other gentlemen, I can assure you they will be so mesmerised by your beauty they won't give a thought to whether or not you make a mistake."

Bella's smile stayed with Edward throughout the King's dinner. While disappointed, he was not surprised to be separated from her almost as soon as they entered the palace. The King wished to speak with his new cousin privately before welcoming his other guests, no doubt in one final attempt to convince her she could do better than a mere marquis.

Adding weight to his concern, Edward was seated towards the Queen's end of the hundred-seat table, while Bella and her father were seated at the other end near the King. As various foreign dignitaries, all ranked higher than him, vied for her attention, he was reduced to watching on.

It didn't take long for those seated around him to begin questioning the identity of the beautiful red-haired lady at the King's side. The most common assumption was correct—that she was the heroine who had escaped the clutches of the nefarious Lord Hunter—but not all were supportive in their comments. Edward scowled when he heard the murmurs of disapproval voiced by some of the more straitlaced matrons and their hypocritical spouses when mention was made of Bella having masqueraded as a servant during her time at Worthington Hall.

"You would have preferred she'd been imprisoned for crimes she had not committed or forced to wed the rogue who tried to murder her father?"

"Nobody is saying that, Lord Masen." The placating tone of the dowager seated to his right was at odds with her haughty expression. "But she did go to extraordinary lengths, as did you in your efforts to _protect_ the girl, or so I have heard?"

There was no disguising the salacious inference to her query, but Edward addressed it without flinching. "I was graced with the opportunity to offer my assistance to a lady of quality who found herself in distress through absolutely no fault of her own. Would you have had me do anything less?"

"The gal certainly seems to have a knack for collecting highly placed champions," a gentleman a few places away commented dryly.

Edward didn't dispute his assessment, offering assurance with his gaze when Bella looked his way.

"How is she holding up?" he asked Sir Charles when they were making their way to the ballroom after the interminable dinner ended.

"A tad overwhelmed, as am I, but standing up to all the attention. In hindsight, I believe I have done her a disservice by keeping her in the dark all these years. If I'd realised there was going to be this much pomp and ceremony involved, I wouldn't have kept the secret of her heritage from her for this long. She should have had more time to get used to the idea of being a part of this world . . . either that or we could have hightailed it to the wilds of Scotland, saving her from it altogether."

Edward shuddered at the thought. Of course, he would have preferred if Bella had not been frightened or made to suffer in the process of their finding one another, but he couldn't help feeling grateful for the way things had turned out. His original plan to keep her hidden from society had been wise, her charms a temptation he feared would be difficult for many of his peers to resist. Now, that option had been removed, and his muscles tensed when he recalled the way her dinner companions had looked at her, like she was a tasty morsel they desired to sample . . . or consume. The sooner Edward made her his wife the safer she would be.

 **~I~**

 **I enjoyed this chapter, but next one is the ball - one of my favourites!**

 **Until tomorrow.**

 **xxx Elise**


	47. Choice

**Hello again, lovely people! I hope you are well and life is treating you kindly. If not, I hope your troubles pass swiftly.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Choice**

"I may have said my blessing would be given if you held true to your desire to wed Lord Masen, but there is much at stake, Lady Isabella. It is not too late to change your mind," King William told Bella during their private audience before dinner. "You could be the queen of an entire nation. Can you imagine?"

She barely managed to suppress a shudder. "I fear I can, Your Majesty."

One brow arching, he looked none too pleased by her reply.

"As the newest member of the royal family, you could help strengthen much-needed alliances with your choice of husband. I don't want it to come to this, but I could make the decision for you."

Gripping her hands tightly together, Bella did the near unthinkable for a young lady and argued with the sovereign. "As my great-grandmother married a foreign prince, I am not subject to the Royal Marriage Act. You would need my father's support to see me betrothed to a candidate of your choosing. Even then, I do not believe the Church condones forced marriage. A willing bride is required."

"When one is born to privilege, one has a duty to fulfil in these matters."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I believe my duty is to Lord Masen, to whom I have already given both my heart _and_ my body."

The King scowled at the pointed reminder before declaring a large enough dowry—and the right connections—could encourage a potential groom to overlook such technicalities. Bella had no intention of capitulating, but not wanting to further offend the man who held the power to rob Edward of his heritage and their children of legitimacy, she agreed to at least consider his preferred candidates, both mysteriously present. She did her best to be polite to the visiting crown prince and foreign duke seated either side of her during dinner, but her heart wasn't in it. Whenever there was a lull in the conversation, her gaze sought Edward farther down the table, his smile bolstering her courage. Relieved when the multiple course dinner was over, she braced herself to face the next obstacle of the evening—surviving her introduction to society. Bella silently prayed the King would announce Edward's and her betrothal before the end of the night, doubting her nerves could stand an extended delay.

Adding to her anxiety was Edward's mercurial manner, his behaviour reminding her of their time at Worthington Hall before he had offered her his protection. One moment she had been convinced he enjoyed her company as much as she did his. The next he had seemed offended by her presence. Now she didn't know if he wanted her to act the demure, virginal maiden—when they both knew she was anything but—or if she should acknowledge the hungry look when it appeared in his eyes.

Bella was trying to act the way he wanted, taking her cue from Edward's polite demeanour. But when he looked at her the way he had in the carriage, as if he had completely forgotten their chaperones and wanted to ravish her on the spot, she didn't know what to think.

Waiting in the shadows for the King and Queen to arrive, Bella clutched her father's arm. Her heart raced when she looked out over the teeming mass of gowned and bejewelled upper _ton_ filling the glittering ballroom. It would have been easier if Edward had been allowed to stand with her, but he had been relegated to the crowd below, further evidence of the King's continued manipulations.

"How are you faring?" her father asked. "We could make a run for it if you would rather avoid all this."

"I think it's too late for that." Tempted by the notion—but only if Edward could accompany them—Bella put a hand to her stomach in an attempt to quell her rising nausea.

The orchestra stopped playing, and the waiting assembly fell silent as the King and Queen came to stand beneath the enormous crystal chandelier illuminating the landing. As one, the congregated crème of society bowed and curtsied, a cascade of taffeta, silk, and satin spreading out across the ballroom like a rainbow-coloured wave.

"Welcome, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen." The King's booming voice, honed while captaining sea vessels, carried across the ballroom. "I would like to thank you for your gracious attendance at this little gathering, and on such short notice. Her Majesty and I are honoured to have you in our home."

Laughter rose up from the crowd at the King's equivalent of a jest. Not one of them would have dreamed of missing the opportunity to be present at such a prestigious royal function. The sovereign then welcomed the Duchess of Worthington, congratulating her and her husband on their recent nuptials. Carlisle and Esme stepped forward and waved to the crowd, who applauded politely in return. This had been the expected purpose of the evening, but before the throng could dispel, the King summoned their attention once more.

"I have another _special_ announcement to make this evening," he said, and Bella's knees began to tremble.

"It is with the greatest of pleasure I would like to introduce a new member of the royal family. Heroine of the hour for her fortitude in the face of terrible adversity, and my own dearest if somewhat distant cousin, may I introduce . . . Lady Isabella Swan."

At the announcement of her name, Bella stepped from the shadows. A hush fell over the crowd, followed by a ripple of sound that rose rapidly in volume. When they broke into cheers and applause, her breath hitched, an unwise move considering the design of her tight-fitting gown. The room began to swirl, and Bella feared she might faint—or worse, disgrace herself by losing the contents of her stomach. Her muscles tensed in readiness to turn and flee when Edward stepped forward from the crowd. His gaze locked with hers, and the world righted itself. Ignoring protocol, he ascended the wide marble staircase, only halting when the King raised a hand.

"Preempting the situation again, Lord Masen?"

A hush fell over the audience at the King's obvious displeasure.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Edward said, his tone more determined than apologetic. "But Lady Isabella needs my support."

Bella held her breath. After a pause that seemed to last forever, the King waved Edward onward, the liveried guards stepping back and resuming their not-so-decorative posts. Taking the rest of the stairs two at a time, Edward came to stand at Bella's side and threaded his arm through hers.

"I don't think you were supposed to do that," she whispered. "But I'm very glad you did."

"So am I." He smiled his assurance before turning to face the scowling sovereign.

"You could have given me at least _one_ evening to see if I could shake Lady Isabella's resolve," the King muttered.

"Oh, give it up, dear." Queen Adelaide joined them. "Did you really think you could keep this particular young couple apart considering their shared past? It is obvious Lady Isabella's mind is made up . . . as it should be."

"Yes, well. I suppose her marrying a marquis is not such a terrible thing."

"Not terrible at all, Your Majesty." Bella stepped closer to Edward.

"Very well. You have given me little choice but to grant my permission, Masen, or create a scandal that shan't be forgotten in a hurry. But there _will_ be repercussions. The two of you owe me, is that understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Bella said in unison with Edward, shooting him a worried glance. He patted her hand, and she took what comfort she could from the gesture.

After one last harrumph, the King turned to face the murmuring crowd and announced the betrothal of the Marquis of Masen to Lady Isabella Swan. The better part of the next hour passed with him introducing Bella to a seemingly endless row of distinguished guests. With Edward at her side, she was welcomed to society, showered with well-wishes for her coming nuptials, and complimented on her beauty. In the light of her newfound connections, it seemed her unfortunate colouring—the red hair she had inherited from her mother—was of less consequence than she had feared, though many of the young ladies didn't sound very sincere when offering their congratulations. Edward appeared not to notice the debutantes' assessing looks, but he exchanged glowers with the gentlemen who requested Bella save them a place on her dance card. When one bold young viscount went so far as to compliment her on her "stunning locks," Edward took a menacing step forward.

"Thank you," Bella said while squeezing Edward's arm. "Lord Masen appreciates them also."

He met her gaze, his expression gentling as she stared up at him with more than a little possessiveness of her own. When he reached as if to touch her cheek before dropping his hand, several other gentlemen eyed him darkly.

"They're upset I have taken you off the marriage mart before you were introduced," he murmured in an aside.

Bella wasn't the least bit interested in other gentlemen, aristocratic, princely, or otherwise, but she endured the introductions as best she could. When the line ended, she sighed with relief. Then the King declared the dancing could begin, and her muscles tensed.

"Trust me," Edward said, escorting her onto the gleaming dance floor. After facing one another, they lifted their arms. When his left hand clasped hers and his right came to rest at her waist, Bella's breath hitched. She had dreamed of dancing with Edward, drawing endless sketches of the two of them waltzing in an imaginary ballroom. Now it was actually going to happen. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as they took their first steps, hers tentative and his confidant. She followed Edward's lead, and after they had taken a few turns without mishap, her fear waned. After a few more turns, a widening smile lit her face.

With all eyes upon them, Edward maintained a respectable distance, but she was in his arms and allowed to remain there for the length of the waltz. The way their bodies moved together reminded Bella of a far more intimate activity, one in which they had engaged many times, and she did her best to suppress the memories. Recalling what it was like to surrender herself to Edward's passionate embrace was hardly wise considering their current location.

"I told you you'd be fine," he said after they had circled the ballroom.

"It must be because I'm dancing with you." She returned his smile. "My tutors were terrifying, but you make it seem easy."

Laughing, he swung them through a tight turn, pulling her a little closer than was allowed. Their gazes locked, and the palace ballroom and elegant couples twirling around them faded from view. It wasn't the done thing to show one's heart on one's sleeve, but try as she might, Bella couldn't seem to help herself. When the dance was almost over, she whispered, "I love you," and Edward missed a step. His eyes darkened, and he looked around almost wildly.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh, regretting her impulsiveness. "I didn't mean to speak out of turn. Do you think I was overheard?"

"I don't give a damn if you were overheard." He pulled her a fraction closer. "I just wish we weren't the centre of attention, so I could whisk you away somewhere and show you exactly what you mean to me."

"Oh . . ." Bella stumbled to a halt as the music came to an end. Maybe Edward had decided expressing their passion for one another was acceptable after all.

 **~I~**

 **Hmm . . . maybe?**

 **Thanks for your ongoing support. I love that you love this story. :)**

 **xx Elise**


	48. Rumours

**Peelmeagrapenyc, you give Guest Reviewers a very good name. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews.**

 **Now for the dancing, a little intrigue, and a surprise announcement!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Rumour**

Bella's father, though growing stronger by the day, was not yet up to dancing. Since Edward and Bella were only supposed to dance together twice during the evening, he asked for his aunt's hand for the quadrille that followed the waltz. Penelope graciously accepted, and they moved to the dance floor to join other couples in forming a group of four. Without her betrothed's glowering presence keeping them at bay, Bella was soon surrounded by gentlemen, and her heart began to pound. With a glance towards Edward, she placed her hand on the arm of some earl or viscount or another, and joined in with the complicated routine, managing to get through the dance with only a few minor missteps.

The rest of the first half of the evening passed in similar fashion, with Bella handed like a package from one eminent gentleman to another. During a succession of cotillions and country dances, she made conversation, remembering not to talk politics, religion, or any topic that might stir controversy. It didn't leave much.

To her secret relief, Edward chose not to partner with any of the beautiful young ladies vying for his attention, dancing only with his aunt, sister, stepmother, and a few aging matrons. She was touched by his consideration of her feelings, though the way he stalked the sidelines, staring at the gentlemen with whom she was partnered like a predatory cat waiting to pounce, was a little unsettling. The second waltz of the evening was the last dance before a light supper was to be served, and Bella gladly accompanied him onto the dance floor.

"You are doing splendidly," Edward said when she confidently matched his steps.

Bella smiled at his praise, but she couldn't help noting the tightness around his eyes.

"I wish I could dance every dance with you," she admitted, and his expression lightened.

"Once we are wed, we shall hold a private ball for our family and closest friends, and we shall waltz together as many times as we please."

"I would like that." Bella was enchanted by the idea, but her smile quickly faded. "What do you think the King meant by 'repercussions'? Could he withdraw his approval for our nuptials after the ball?"

Edward shook his head and gave her hand a squeeze. "The scandal would be too great."

"Well, that's something." She sighed.

The dance ended far too quickly, but this time they were able to stay together as he escorted her through to one of the adjoining rooms for supper. A steady stream of visitors sought out their group. Most offered polite greetings and invitations to a variety of coming events, and a few eyed the newly betrothed couple with blatant curiosity. But none dared to ask questions of too personal a nature. It was only when Alice asked Bella to accompany her to the ladies' withdrawing room that she became privy to the circulating rumours.

"I heard she travelled halfway across the country without a chaperone, pretending to be a _commoner_."

"I heard she cooked . . . in a kitchen . . . and laboured as a maid."

"How horrid."

"How scandalous!"

"If we're talking scandal, I would like to know how she tricked Lord Masen into proposing. Have you seen the colour of her hair?"

"A girl who would masquerade as a servant would think nothing of compromising herself to force an alliance."

With her hand covering her mouth, Bella turned to leave the anteroom, but Alice indicated they should stay.

"It's better to know what's being said, so we can counter it," she whispered.

"I don't know about the marquis being forced to do anything." The gossiping continued. "Have you seen the way he looks at her? I'd give anything to have a marquis look at me in such a manner. It makes me all hot and flustered just thinking about it."

"Mother says his behaviour is shocking. He practically undressed the girl with his eyes when they were dancing."

"A man as handsome as Lord Masen can shock me any day, or that equally darling Lord Whitlock, but he seems to have his sights set on Worthington's daughter."

"Lady Isabella is presentable enough, I suppose— _if_ you discount her less than reputable past—and Lady Alice is adequately stylish, but neither could be described as classic beauties." The speaker's sniff of disdain was clearly audible. "Lady Alice's dowry is substantial, but I've not heard whether Lady Isabella has anything of significance other than a distant relationship to the royalty. She's not even a _true_ lady, as her father is a nobody."

Bella had heard enough and rounded the corner, her ire well and truly raised. "My father was a war hero, knighted for bravery and service to the crown."

"And my brother cares a great deal for Lady Isabella, as does my father, the Duke of Worthington, and her cousin, the King, so you might want to keep that in mind," Alice added, her tone deceptively sweet. "Oh, and Edward isn't just _interested_ in Isabella, he is totally committed to her well-being as his future marchioness. I can assure you, he won't take kindly to anyone causing her distress."

Bella wasn't sure if Alice's words were wise, but they certainly had an effect. She was soon surrounded by gushing young ladies all desperate to make amends and secure her future friendship. After assuring them she would not hold their unkind words against them, she was relieved when they all went back to the ballroom, leaving her and Alice alone. All she wanted was to return to the comfort of Edward's presence, but when they left the withdrawing room, a footman approached and passed her a folded missive. The note bid her to head further down the hallway, _away_ from the ball room, and she feared the King wasn't finished in his attempts to sway her to his will.

"Don't be afraid," Alice whispered. "It's Edward's handwriting."

"Yes, of course," Bella murmured, feeling foolish for not having recognised it herself. Rounding a corner, they were met by Edward and Jasper, who ushered them into a barely lit parlour.

"Edward, what are you thinking?" The rest of Bella's protest was cut off when he drew her into his arms, pressed his lips to hers, and stole the breath from her lungs. She held still, concerned about the appropriateness of the clandestine meeting and unsure how to meet his variable expectations. She didn't _think_ he planned on indulging his passion when it arose while she denied hers, at least she hoped not. The likelihood of her managing such a feat was slim.

Confirming her fears, her body responded regardless of her misgivings, melting against him. His lips brushed over hers first one way and then the other. Deepening the kiss, he brought his tongue into play, inciting a whimper as Bella gladly opened her mouth to receive its invasion. While savouring his sweet taste, his soft lips, the stroke of his tongue stroking against her own, she wound her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair.

Edward moaned into her mouth, his roaming hands pulling her against him and leaving her in no doubt as to the intensity of his desire. She pressed back, arching against him as liquid heat coursed through her veins. Lost in the most passionate embrace they'd shared since their reunion, Bella forgot all about their audience . . . until Jasper cleared his throat. Breaking the kiss, she spun to face their companions. While Jasper's expression was rueful, Alice's mouth hung open, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"Alice, I . . . I . . ." Edward ran his fingers through his now-tousled hair. His mouth opened and closed several times, but before he could form a coherent sentence, his sister turned to Jasper.

"Pray, kind sir, would you mind telling me why you have never kissed _me_ in such an extraordinary manner?"

"Because he knows what I would do to him if he did." Having found his voice, Edward practically growled the words.

Bella raised a brow. "Are you saying it is acceptable for _me_ to be kissed like that but not your sister?"

"No, of course not. I mean, well, yes . . ." He reached for her, but she stepped back and crossed her arms. "It is different for us, not because I view you with any less respect, but because we are engaged to be married. I assumed you wouldn't be offended by such a kiss. You did enjoy it, didn't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "We both know I enjoyed it."

"That is all very well," Alice interjected. "But how am I to know whether I should accept Lord Whitlock's proposal if I don't know if I'm going to enjoy his kisses? The chaste little pecks he gives me when no one is looking are pleasant enough but no comparison to the exchange I just witnessed."

Jasper spluttered, his panicked gaze shooting to Edward's face.

"I have already informed you, Jasper, that I want to be completely convinced you will honour your promise of fidelity before I agree to become your wife." Alice faced her beau, hands on her hips. "Now, I expect a real kiss. But not when my brother is present, if you don't mind." Turning her back on the towering Scotsman, she reached for Bella's hand and pulled her towards the door.

"We'd better head back before we are missed," she said, shooting her brother a withering look. "Honestly, Edward, what were you thinking organising a secret rendezvous at a palace ball when your betrothed is the guest of honour?"

"I just wanted a few moments alone with Bella."

Edward's plaintive tone dissolved the starch that had stiffened Bella's spine, and she tugged free from Alice's hold.

"I didn't mean any disrespect," he said when she returned to his side. "It's just, Alice is my sister and—"

"I understand." She silenced him with a finger to his lip, deciding it was past time they came to a clearer understanding of the parameters of their relationship. "But Alice is right, and we should get back. There are enough rumours circulating without any more fuel being added to the fire."

"Rumours?" Edward and Jasper demanded in unison.

"Don't worry. We've dealt with it." Alice linked her arm with Bella's. "But if we don't make an appearance soon, all our good work will be for naught. You two, give us a few moments, then head over and play a hand of something in one of the gaming rooms before returning to the ballroom to allay suspicion."

Bella smiled at Alice's commanding tone and the bemused expression on Lord Whitlock's face.

"Marry my sister at your peril, my friend," she heard Edward murmur as they departed. "For you can expect to be thoroughly managed."

"I heard that, Edward." Alice closed the door to the sound of her brother's laughter.

~I~

"Are you well, Isabella?" Penelope asked after the two girls returned to the ballroom. "Your colour is a little heightened."

"It is nothing. Just the crush."

"Here." Alice passed Bella a glass of punch. "This should help."

Gratefully sipping the ice-cooled drink, Bella fanned her face with her free hand while recalling Edward's kiss. It was obvious he wanted her as much as he ever had. She just needed to convince him his scruples were not only misplaced, but their confusing application was causing them both unnecessary distress.

"You are doing remarkably well," her father said after coming close enough to speak privately.

"Thank you, Papa." She smiled.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Surprisingly so." Bella didn't bother to hide the relief in her tone. "I can't deny I was pleased when Edward stepped forward, and the King was forced to announce our betrothal. It has lessened the strain on my nerves considerably, though I fear I'm not in very good favour with my cousin. Do you think he will ever forgive me?"

"You, my dear girl, will be forgiven just about anything." The King's declaration was made from right behind her. " _If_ you agree to my concessions regarding your future nuptials."

Bella grimaced. Rather than stay sequestered in an elevated location like a typical monarch, William had spent the evening mingling with his guests, and she should have paid better attention. "Concessions?" she asked.

To her relief, Edward arrived and linked his arm with hers. "I had hoped Lady Isabella and I might be wed with minimal delay."

"Your impatience comes as little surprise, Lord Masen." The King's tone was wry. "Have no fear. The repercussions I mentioned do not take the form of any great delay, though you will need _some_ time to prepare for the event I have in mind."

"Event, Your Majesty?" Bella gulped.

"Since the two of you have deprived me of the opportunity to strengthen _foreign_ ties, I believe it is fitting your nuptials should benefit affairs closer to home."

Edward and Bella shared a look of confusion while Bella's father questioned the King's meaning. "Weddings are typically family affairs, Your Majesty. Do you have something else in mind?"

"I certainly do." The King smiled smugly. "Your daughter's debut has been a triumph, Sir Charles. I've heard nothing but commendation from my guests, and my advisors tell me the entire country is abuzz over her having outfoxed Hunter in such dramatic fashion. When the announcement is made she is to wed her _noble_ protector, not to mention the revelation of her illustrious connections, I believe her star will continue to rise. The Empire has been sorely lacking a young heroine since the tragic death of my niece, Princess Charlotte. With Isabella insistent on marrying her English lord, I think it is only fitting the English people get to witness the glorious event."

"With the popularity of the English Crown boosted in the process," Carlisle added wryly, having come closer to listen in on the conversation, Esme at his side. If there was one thing that could be relied upon, it was their recently crowned monarch doing everything in his power to increase his standing with the common man.

Bella frowned. "But I don't understand. How can the people _witness_ our wedding?"

"I believe the King wants us to marry somewhere public, and in a manner not seen for some time," Edward said, his expression grim.

"Exactly." The King beamed. "I'm thinking Westminster Abbey. It hasn't seen a royal wedding in an age, which I think is a shame. There will be ample room for Bella's newly extended family, visiting royals and dignitaries, elite members of the _ton—_ who I can guarantee will be falling over themselves to attend. I think we might even invite some of the common folk, carefully selected members, of course. They're getting rather heated about this ridiculous law reform business . . . who ever heard of every Tom, Dick, and Harry being granted a vote? It's for landowners to decide the governance of the nation." The King shook his head before continuing. "Crowds will line the streets to watch the bridal procession on their journey from the Abbey to the Palace for the grand reception."

"But . . . but . . ."

Bella felt faint, having assumed Edward's and her nuptials would be a quiet, family-only affair. Other than Princess Charlotte's, whose marriage was at least _somewhat_ private, England had not seen a grand royal or even society wedding since the previous century. The French _Terror_ had put an end to more than just flamboyant fashions and profligate spending. With the _ton_ living in fear of revolution, and the aristocracy of both the loss of their positions and their heads, extravagance had not only been discouraged but considered downright dangerous. A more sombre, tasteful season had followed, one where simplicity and a disdain for showiness had prevailed. This state of affairs had prevailed throughout the many years of the war with Napoleon. But that was now all in the past. With a new decade, and a new sovereign, times and fashions were changing.

"Come now, Lady Isabella," the King said, waving a finger. "You stated a desire to be of service. I am giving you the opportunity to be part of a public spectacle that will do wonders to bolster the standing of the monarchy. A small price to pay for being able to marry the gentleman of your choosing, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty."

"I'm not even expecting you to wait overly long, as I would like to take advantage of your current popularity," he continued. "Say six weeks from now, before the hordes depart the capital for the summer?"

"Will that allow enough time to prepare?" Esme asked.

" _More_ than enough," Edward insisted. "We can be wed right after the final sitting of Parliament."

"Very well, Masen. Six weeks it is."

Alice sputtered, but Bella breathed a sigh. She could only imagine the amount of work required for such a spectacle, but dragging it out wouldn't make it any easier from her perspective. Time alone with Edward would be at a premium. At the rate things were going, their wedding night could prove to be interesting, as Bella was more confused than ever regarding his expectations.

~I~

 **I think our Scottish Jasper is going to have his hands full with Alice...if Edward lets him live. ;)**

 **I'm so glad some of you are enjoying the Edward POV outtakes I've been sharing. In hindsight, I should have fought harder to keep them as part of the story. Once I've reworked them all, I'll definitely add them back in. This morning's outtake is from Chapter 7, The Hunt. Abruptly Chagrined gave me a really good belly laugh with her suggestion that the horse that bumped into Bella should be named, 'Van.' Bwahaha!**

 **xx Elise**


	49. Opportunity

**Another day, another chapter. I do hope you enjoy it!**

 **A couple of astute readers pointed out an anomoly from last chapter. When the Kind introduced Bella, he really should have explained her parentage and how they are related, not just say she is a 'distant cousin', as that could mean anything. I thought the same thing! It's so long since I wrote this and it was edited for publishing that I have no idea why it wasn't included. I'll make sure to add it in when I'm not so tired (it's been a long day). It won't change the plot, but it will fill the little 'hole' that is in it. :)**

 **Thanks for being such switched on readers!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Opportunity**

The journey to Penelope's town house was made in relative quiet after the noise and excitement of the ball. Feeling a tad overwhelmed, Bella battled not to succumb to melancholy, her father picking up on her mood. As the carriage came to a halt, he caught her eye.

"Rather than keep the horses standing whilst I escort Penelope inside, I thought I would instruct the driver to take you once around the park and then return for me."

"Papa?" Bella queried in time with Edward's startled, "Sir?"

"After the events of this evening, I thought the two of you might appreciate a little time alone, though I am trusting you to be good." He eyed Edward severely. "Well, reasonably good," he added before closing the door to the dimly lit carriage.

"This wasn't my idea," Bella said hurriedly.

"I didn't think it was, but I'm glad of the opportunity."

"You are?"

"Yes." Edward edged closer. "I have been wanting to get you alone, but I wasn't sure how to manage it."

Bella's heart began to pound. "How long will it take us to drive around the park?"

"About fifteen minutes, maybe a little longer if Ben drives slowly. Time enough."

 _For what?_

Before she could ask, the carriage lurched forward, and Edward used the momentum to lift her onto his lap.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, making sure the rear window was covered so the groom couldn't see them.

"Congratulating my betrothed for her triumphant debut and apologising for my boorish behaviour."

"If you are referring to the comments you made during our rendezvous at the ball, you have already said sorry."

"I meant before that," Edward said, and Bella's heart fell.

"Oh, Edward. No more apologies, please. I know you regret your treatment of me when you thought I was a commoner, and for horribly offending me with your actions—"

"But you weren't offended—well, not by _everything_ I did."

Bella stilled. "No, I wasn't."

"I assumed you must have felt pressured to comply with my demands and only pretended to enjoy my attentions—"

"Because a true lady would never willingly engage in or appreciate such activities." She tried to climb off his lap, but Edward held her in place. "I told you I didn't think I had what it takes to be your marchioness." She reluctantly met his gaze. "I'm trying to be what you want—"

"But I'm an idiot who keeps sending you mixed messages."

Bella blinked. "Well . . . yes _._ "

"You are the same girl I fell in love with at Worthington, and I'm sorry if I have given you the impression I want you to change."

"You are?"

"Very." Edward ran his fingers gently along the exposed curve of her shoulder. "I realise you must have been offended by at least some of the things we did, so I promise I won't ask anything of you that is _overly_ forward."

Bella opened her mouth to argue and then snapped it shut, wary of pushing her luck. After a moment, she ventured a query.

"You won't think badly of me if I act in a _somewhat_ uninhibited manner once we're wed?"

"I shall be grateful beyond measure."

Bella breathed a sigh, and Edward's gaze dropped to her lips. But when he tried to close the distance between them, she placed her hand on his chest.

"What brought about your change of heart?" she asked.

"Mostly it was being eaten alive with jealousy watching you dance with other men." He closed his eyes for a moment. "The only way I could endure it was by reminding myself you are to be _my_ wife and will share _my_ bed. Feeling you in my arms as we danced, I kept recalling the way you looked when we made love. It was then I knew I'd been a fool. Your responses could not all have been feigned."

Bella wondered what he would think if he knew none of them had been.

"You said 'mostly'?"

"Jasper played a part in helping me come to my senses. I told him I was worried you were unhappy, that I could feel you withdrawing from me, and I didn't know why."

"What did he say?"

"That if I had half a brain, I would beg you not to change in your demeanour towards me as he'd never seen me happier than during those weeks we spent together at Worthington."

"I made you happy?" Bella knew as much, but it was nice to hear the words.

" _Very_ happy. I'm just sorry if I have been making you miserable. Will you allow me to make amends?" he asked, his lips burning a path from just below her ear to her fashionably exposed décolletage.

"Certainly." For the second time that night, she melted into his embrace. Bella had thought the style scandalous when she had first been fitted for the gown, but she would have all her dresses fashioned in this manner if Edward would take advantage of them in such a way.

"What do you think Papa meant by 'reasonably good'?" she asked, her breath coming in shallow pants.

"I have a keen idea." Edward's lips teased her bared flesh before he raised his head and whispered against her mouth, "But not much time to make up for my previous neglect."

The horses' hooves made a clip-clopping noise as they pulled the carriage at a steady trot around the park, and Bella considered asking Ben if he would slow to a walk. As Edward's kisses became increasingly heated, she readjusted her position. Between her tight stays and the voluminous layers of fine linen petticoats beneath her beautiful gown, it wasn't particularly comfortable sitting perched on his lap. Nor would it be an easy matter for him to gain access to what lay beneath. Smiling against his mouth, Bella was confident he would find a way.

Fulfilling her prediction, Edward's lips drifted from their worship of her mouth to nibble a path along her jaw. At the Same time, his fingers captured her ankle beneath the hem of her gown. Circling her ankle with his thumb and forefinger, his hand then smoothed along her leg, pushing the layers of fabric out of the way. When he reached the lace-trimmed edge of her silk stocking, his fingers stroked the bare skin above. Desire and pleasure mingled, coursing through her in a shuddering wave.

"I want to make love to you so badly." Edward groaned, the sound rumbling close to her ear. Sitting back, he met her gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "A part of me thinks I am an utter fool for not taking you up on your offer to sneak out of your room, but I made your father a promise I intend keeping, and I didn't want you to think I don't respect you. It is bad enough I took advantage of your innocence the way I did."

"That's in the past." Bella smoothed away the furrows on his brow. "All's well that ends, or is _soon_ to end, very well indeed."

Edward took hold of her hand, turning his head to press his lips to her palm.

"Not an end, a beginning," he whispered before his mouth found hers in a kiss that was both passionate, loving, and yet somehow reverent.

Coming to a sudden decision, Bella pulled away and took a deep breath, an action that drew Edward's gaze back to her cleavage. Her resolve almost faltered as the hunger in his eyes sparked a deep longing in her own heart. But then she realised it was, indeed, her _heart_ that ached for communion with Edward even more intensely than her body desired fulfilment. After lifting his chin with her forefinger until his rueful gaze met hers, she made an unexpected request. "Would you mind too terribly if we waited?"

"To be intimate again?" His brows rose, and she nodded. "I wasn't intending to go that far. There really isn't time, and I don't imagine that's what your father had in mind when he granted us this opportunity to be alone. I was just hoping to make up for my contradictory behaviour by bringing you, er . . . _comfort_."

"Comfort?" Bella almost changed her mind.

"Yes, but I agree we should wait to engage fully in intercourse until after we are married. It's the right thing to do and will be a fresh start for us both."

"That's what I thought also." She tried to sound confident in her decision but couldn't help a moment's regret. Some _comfort_ would have been appreciated.

"Having said that." Edward tilted his head. "It doesn't seem fair—or particularly honourable—of me to stir your passions and then leave you unfulfilled. Are you sure you wouldn't like me to finish what I started?"

Bella's breath hitched, but a quick glance out the window showed they were more than halfway around the park. "I fear we have run out of time, and I doubt we will be given another opportunity before the wedding." She tried to hide her disappointment. As far as compromises went, Edward's generous offer was one she could have lived with quite easily. "Not to worry. Six weeks isn't a terribly long time to wait."

Edward didn't respond straight away, but his cheekbones took on a reddish tint.

"What is it?"

"I could _explain_ to you how to find your own release," he whispered.

"Oh." Bella's face heated. "That won't be necessary," she murmured, unable to meet his gaze.

"Because you would rather wait?"

"Well, yes, but also because I already . . . er . . . fathomed the, er . . . _mechanics_ of it for myself."

Edward's head jerked back, and Bella could have kicked herself for mentioning the discovery she had made following _another_ particularly vivid dream.

"I only tried it the once," she rushed to add. "It was pleasant enough but nowhere near as wonderful as when you, I mean when we, I mean . . . oh, Edward. Do you think _too_ badly of me?"

"Of course not." He carefully schooled his features, but she could tell he was upset. "So, you are saying you have no need of my assistance now that you can take care of the problem by yourself?"

"No!" She clutched at the lapels of his evening jacket. "I am merely saying I understand the process, but to be perfectly honest, it left me feeling a little, well . . . _lonely_. I would rather wait until we can be together as man and wife."

"So, we wait." Edward brushed a kiss across her forehead, his relief palpable.

"Until our wedding night."

"Which is only six weeks away."

"Only six weeks." She suppressed a smile at his grim determination. "Besides," she added, looking coyly up at him through her eyelashes, "there is something to be said for letting the anticipation build."

Edward chuckled. "Indeed, there is. As well as making it considerably easier to meet your father's eye when he rejoins us."

Groaning, Bella covered her face with her hands, not having given that eventuality its due thought.

"But he'll think we have been doing more than we have."

"Don't worry." Edward pulled her close. "Your father only wants your happiness. I am sure he doesn't begrudge us a few passionate kisses."

"Of course . . . kisses."

The tension drained from Bella's body, and she settled as comfortably as she could into Edward's embrace. "I suppose you are right." She yawned, the excitement of the long day, and her relief at having matters more settled between them, taking their toll. Things would be well once they were wed. They would find their footing, put off the shackles of society's expectations, and return to being just Edward and Bella . . . friends . . . lovers. Although hopefully without the guilt and confusion.

"Why don't you rest?" he suggested, drawing her head to nestle against his shoulder. She thought it unlikely, but the next thing she knew, the rhythmic sounds of horseshoes striking cobblestones had been replaced by silence.

~I~

"Sweetheart, it's time to awaken."

Opening her eyes, Bella found Edward's handsome face mere inches from her own.

"We are home." He smiled softly. "I would happily carry you inside, but I fear we would scandalise my father's staff."

"We can't have that," she murmured.

"You did very well tonight, Isabella," her father said when they exited the carriage, Bella leaning on Edward's arm. "Your mother would have been proud to see you triumph in front of the highest echelon of society. Not that she paid them much mind."

"I wish she could have met Edward." Bella smiled wistfully at the thought.

"I'm sure I would have admired her greatly," he said as they came to a halt at the foot of the curving stairway.

"Well, son." Edward's eyebrows rose at her father's unexpected use of the term. "I can guarantee she would have loved you."

"Sir?"

"You adore her little girl as much as she did." He gave Edward a fatherly pat before turning towards the stairs. "She would have approved of you, as do I, though if I catch my daughter asleep in your lap again before the wedding, I doubt I shall be so obliging."

"Papa!" Bella ducked her head.

"Good night, Edward." Her father chuckled as he made his slow but steady way up the stairs. "I shall expect Isabella at the top of the landing in five minutes."

"Thank you, sir, and good night." Edward called after him before guiding Bella into the shadows.

"Edward, the footmen might see." Her rebuke was made halfheartedly, as she moulded the curves of her body to his muscular planes.

"They are all looking the other way. Or they should be."

"Whatever you say," she murmured, as his mouth urgently sought hers.

"Dream of me tonight?" he asked after they reluctantly drew apart. Bella's cheeks warmed, and Edward quizzed his brow. "That's right. You are yet to tell me the contents of your shocking dream."

"I'm not sure I should."

"What has you so afraid? Have I not reassured you sufficiently?"

Bella huffed out a breath. "In my dream, you said the reason I enjoyed what we did, or rather, what you did _to_ me, is because I am wanton. It was obvious you believed me wicked _._ "

Edward hung his head. "Bella, you don't have a wicked bone in your body. You are one of the most compassionate and caring individuals I know." He bent down so she couldn't avoid his gaze. "And as for wanton, you are a passionate woman, which is _wonderful_ in my book."

"You say that now." She frowned. "But if I tell you about my dream, I fear your good opinion of me will be lost."

Edward's brows disappeared behind his fringe. "It's _that_ scandalous?"

Bella nodded warily.

"More so than the things I made you do at Worthington?"

She bit her lip.

"Tell me . . ." He drew her tightly against him before releasing her at the sound of her father clearing his throat above them. ". . . _later_. Or your father might see to it I am incapable of reenacting your dream. Is that something that might interest you, _after_ we are wed, of course?"

Picturing herself dressed in a maid's uniform and bent over Edward's desk, Bella's internal response was a resounding "Yes." But she kept her answer noncommittal.

"We shall see."

Edward groaned and swayed on his feet. "How many weeks until the wedding?"

"Only six." Bella smiled, though a month and a half had never seemed quite so long.

 **~I~**

 **Want to hear something outrageous? Hubby and I had a six week engagement. The reason is one of those silly family drama, long story kind of things, but it can be done. Mind you, ours wasn't quite as grand as Bella and Edward's wedding is going to be! Do any of you guys have interesting wedding stories? I'd love to hear them.**

 **xx Elise**


	50. Promise

**Thanks for the lovely wedding stories. I really enjoyed them. :)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Promise**

"Edgeley's made a move." Jasper drew Edward aside at the Earl of Bradogan's ball a few days after the betrothal ball.

"In what way?"

"He paid a street urchin to give me this when I rode up. It's addressed to you."

Edward broke the seal on the letter and opened it.

 _Unless you want the world to know the truth_ _about your lovely Miss Brown, you shall pay me one hundred pounds. I owe a debt at Wetherby's and look forward to it being cleared._

 _E_

"Damnation." Edward passed the note to Jasper.

"The amount isn't onerous, but I am betting it's by way of an instalment. What are you going to do?"

"Since I can't call him out, and cold-blooded murder isn't an option, I imagine I shall pay." Edward's hands formed fists as he struggled to keep his fury from erupting.

"For how long?"

"Until I can find something to silence him with, preferably for good." Edward's gaze sought Bella's in the crowd. As the "must have" invitee on everyone's guest lists, she had received a mountain of invitations after the King's ball. With Hunter still at large, the rakes of the _ton_ waiting to take advantage of her given the slightest opportunity, and now this new threat, Edward had no intention of letting her out of his sight. At least now that they were betrothed he was able to protect her in a more socially acceptable manner than the method he had chosen at Worthington.

~I~

"What do you mean Alice and I can't visit a charity home?" Bella asked when Edward made his announcement a week after their betrothal. She had been sure he understood how important this was to her. "Are you forbidding us?"

"I don't have to forbid you." He crossed his arms. "Young ladies aren't permitted entrance into female penitentiaries, which is a good thing. I had one of my men investigate and, I can assure you, they are not suitable places for you or Alice to visit."

At the lack of apology in Edward's tone, Bella's hurt turned to annoyance. "We're probably not even supposed to know they exist."

"Why ever not?" Alice kept her voice low. The two young couples were sitting a little apart from their elders, the rainy afternoon keeping them all housebound.

"Shall you tell your sister, or shall I?" Bella turned to Alice before Edward had a chance to respond. "The powers that be don't want young ladies to discover what the gentlemen of the _ton_ get up to while we are kept in far from blissful ignorance. They are afraid it might tarnish our opinions of the men we are supposed to idolise and obey without question. Am I right, Edward?"

"Something like that." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Surely some ladies must know of and support these institutions?" Bella was far from ready to concede defeat. "Or are we fragile females only allowed to patron socially acceptable charities while poor, defenceless girls are being snatched from the street?"

"Well, there's the thing." Edward shot Jasper an uncomfortable glance. "Not all the women who reside in these places are of the defenceless variety."

"What do you mean?" Alice frowned. "If they have sought refuge they must be desperate to return to a life of respectability."

"One would think so." Edward puffed out his cheeks, eyeing Bella warily. "But some of the women have very poor morals and are coarse in their manner, prone to drink, swearing, and fits of temper."

"In other words, they behave exactly like the men who have exploited and abused them. How unforgivable for members of the fairer sex to demean themselves in such a manner. No wonder impressionable young ladies such as ourselves must be protected from exposure. It could incite all manner of rebellion."

"Isabella." Sir Charles's scolding tone brought Bella up short, as she had heard it so seldom.

"I'm sorry, Papa." Her contrition grew when she saw Edward's grim expression. Things had been so much better between them, and she feared a return to the brow-beating that had influenced his treatment of her before their betrothal. "I wasn't implying anything of our present company. It is just frustrating to be thwarted at every turn," she said with a sigh.

Bella's quiet upbringing had done little to prepare her for the frenzy of a London Season, particularly one where she was the unexpected main attraction. The endless round of social engagements with their formal introductions, rigid protocols, and typically banal conversational topics was wearing on her nerves. The majority of lords and ladies who sought her company weren't interested in her as a person but in securing a prestigious connection—via her supposedly naïve and pliable self—with king, duke, and marquis. Others were fascinated by the idea of one of their class having masqueraded as a servant. Bella was forced to become adept at divulging just enough information to satisfy their curiosity, while diverting any inappropriate or prurient questioning about her time on the run from Lord Hunter. Fortunately, not all members of the supposedly superior class were as shallow in their motivation, and she looked forward to strengthening ties with a few intelligent and considerate ladies with whom she had discussed her charitable interests.

Her current concern was whether she would ever be able to act on those interests.

"If ladies aren't supposed to know about these places, who runs them?" Alice asked.

"The church," Edward said, his earlier smugness no longer in evidence.

"That's right," Esme said, joining the conversation. "The ladies who supervise the care and rehabilitation of the penitents have chosen a life of religious service over marriage, so it doesn't matter if they come to despise the entire male population in the process." The gentlemen's eyebrows rose at the duchess's wry tone, but none dared rebuke her. "There are some institutions where matrons of the _ton_ are welcomed, but I agree with Edward. They are not suitable for _young_ ladies to attend."

"How grim are they?" Alice's eyes widened in alarm.

"Very," Edward said. "Enough for me to be grateful neither of you would be permitted entrance."

Bella opened her mouth to argue, but both her father and the duke nodded their agreement, and she closed it with a sigh.

"I believe what my stepmother is referring to," Edward continued, "is the practice some of the institutions employ of opening up their religious services to members of the _ton_ , married ladies included, in exchange for a donation."

"That doesn't sound too terrible. Are you positive we couldn't gain permission to visit?" Bella's hopes rose.

"Positive." Edward's lips flattened into a harsh line.

"Nor would you want to." Esme shuddered. "I attended one of these services when Lord Platt was alive, without his knowledge, of course, in search of a safe refuge for the girls he mistreated. The audience was kept separated from the 'fallen women,' viewing them through screens, while the sermon focused heavily on the sinful nature of the girls. It made no mention of the men who took advantage of them or paid for their services, describing the women as 'libidinous temptresses.' Nor did it acknowledge many of them would have been young and unwilling girls when they were forced to their trade."

"But that's dreadful," Alice said.

Esme nodded. "It is testament to how desperate the young women are that most are grateful for the opportunity to escape their previous circumstance, but the method of delivery did not sit well with me."

"Nor me," Bella whispered, horrified by the tale.

"Now can you understand why I don't want you visiting such a place?" Edward reached to clasp her hand.

"Yes, but I want to do more than give alms, not that I have any desire to support such a reprehensible system."

With Edward insisting he would provide her all the jewellery she could ever require as his marchioness, Bella had gone through her mother's cache. After selecting a few pieces as keepsakes, her father had arranged for the rest of the jewels to be sold, placing a formidable fortune at Bella's disposal, one she was determined to put to good purpose.

"But what are we going to do if we cannot even visit a charitable home?" Alice inched closer to Jasper's side. "Father, you were most insistent Lord Whitlock must prove his sincerity in this manner."

"That was before I discovered what these places are like."

"I shall gladly do whatever you require of me, Your Grace." Jasper addressed Alice's father who waved a hand dismissively.

"Your willingness is enough . . . for now."

Jasper and Alice exchanged smiles at her father giving his tacit approval. While Bella was happy for them, she couldn't hide her despondency.

"Could we start our own charity?" she asked. "Something run differently to the public institutions, more like a home or school?"

"It would be a mammoth undertaking." Her father frowned.

"And not without risk." Edward squeezed Bella's hand, and she returned the pressure. "Part of the reason the penitentiaries resemble both convent and prison is to keep the women safe. Their previous employers don't take kindly to the loss of income."

"Oh," Bella murmured, her shoulders sagging along with her hopes.

With the Queen's warnings about the dangers of being associated with practices that could be deemed revolutionary, and these newly discovered obstacles, it was difficult to see how she would ever fulfil her promise. She was determined to help girls less fortunate than herself, girls who had been through the horrors Angela had experienced, horrors Bella could have easily suffered if not for Edward's intervention.

 **~I~**

Edward made his way through the crowd at Wetherby's, keeping an eye out for Edgeley. He would have been surprised to spot him, as the man had a knack for survival. After he'd cleared the blackmailer's debt, unsurprised to learn there were a lot more like it he expected to be made accountable for, Edward met up with Jasper in an anteroom.

"Any news?"

"None that we can use." Jasper downed his drink before slamming his glass down on a side table.

"What is it? What have you discovered?"

"That Edgeley's name is linked to a group with some very unpleasant tastes."

"And?" Edward shrugged. It was hardly unexpected as the man's capacity for debauchery had never been in doubt.

"We're talking girls." Jasper's mouth twisted with distaste. " _Young_ girls."

Edward sat forward in his seat. "Young enough to be illegal?"

Jasper nodded. "Though how one ascertains proof or acquires a conviction is beyond me. These things are generally swept under the carpet, the gentlemanly offender advised to be more discreet in future."

"Bloody hell." Edward swept a hand through his hair.

"What about you?" Jasper asked. "Have you made any progress on Lady Isabella's behalf?"

After securing her assurance she wouldn't attempt to pursue the matter alone, Edward had agreed to look into alternatives to visiting one of the Homes for Penitent Prostitutes.

 _"I won't drop this, Edward. I can't,"_ she had told him when they had managed to find a few minutes to converse in private. _"If worse comes to worst, I shall support the existing charities, but I consider that a very poor compromise."_

Edward hadn't disagreed, but now he was in a quandary.

"I think I have found a place more in keeping with Bella's intentions."

"That's good?" Jasper made a question of his statement.

"It's dangerous. The charity is small, just the one residence. They maintain absolute discretion . . . for very good reason. The brothel owners don't take kindly to the interference."

"Who runs it?"

Edward shook his head, still a little disbelieving. "A group of very brave, very tenacious _tonnish_ ladies, mostly widowed, and a couple of supportive husbands. None are highly placed _,_ though they were considering approaching Esme now that she is free of Platt. I have arranged a meeting with the home's director."

"Have you told Isabella?"

"I shall." Edward released a gusty sigh. He'd considered waiting until he had learned more and determined the risks, but he was worried she wouldn't forgive him if he left her in the dark. She could be accommodating—to her detriment where he was concerned—but she also possessed a steely resolve. He would never forget the shock he'd experienced when she had informed him she would not continue as his mistress once he was wed, not to mention her refusal of his initial proposal. He had been prepared for her reaction when he told her she couldn't visit a penitentiary, but he was in no hurry to trigger her ire if it wasn't necessary.

"Are you going to tell her about Edgeley?" Jasper asked.

"Absolutely not." Edward didn't want to worry her, and besides, it was a different matter entirely.

 **~I~**

 **Oh, Edward. You're trying, but you have a lot to learn!**

 **The penitentiaries for fallen women were real, and the public 'services', where the elite went to look down upon them (literally) were very popular. It seems victim shaming has been alive and well for a very long time. Sigh...**

 **Until tomorrow!**

 **xx Elise**

 **PS: I totally understand that not everyone reviews every chapter for this story, although thank you so much to those of you who do, as it gets a bit tiring when the chapters come daily! However, we're awfully close to crossing the '2000 review' mark. Fancy helping me see us cross the line?**


	51. Enlightening

**Thank you so much for taking Innocence over the 2000 review mark! I appreciate my regular reviewers more than I can say, as you guys are so faithful, supportive, and a huge encouragement to a writer. I also understand that for some of you, reading is something you do in stolen moments in between all the crazy pressures of life, so I really appreciate you taking the time to say hello whenever you can.**

 **I usually have to give my other WIP, Gone Viral, a trigger warning, but it's at a nice, fluffy part of the story (thank Heavens!). Instead, I need to give a trigger warning for this story, as this chapter has some very sad moments dealing with child abuse. There is nothing graphic, but it's still a tough read at one point, though I think you'll all be proud of Bella for her sensitivity and determination.**

 **Love and hugs from me,**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Enlightening**

"I can't thank you enough, Edward," Bella said when he told her about the charity home, explaining she was welcome to visit—with the necessary chaperones, of course. Her smile made up for the unease he felt over supporting her in this matter. Esme was equally pleased to hear of his discovery, though she expressed regret at not having learned of the discreetly run charity's existence earlier.

"I refused to send girls to the penitentiaries," she said, referring to the maids who had been abused by her late but unlamented husband. "If it wasn't for your father taking them in, I don't know what I would have done."

"Angela wasn't the only girl you rescued?" Bella asked.

"There were several over the years." Esme's expression took on a faraway look. "I did what I could for them, but the risks were high. Platt beat me more than once for interfering."

"How awful," Bella whispered.

"Awful, indeed," Edward agreed, even though it was the way of their world. A husband was well within his legal rights to chastise his wife for wrongdoing, but he had no intention of ever raising his hand to Bella in anger, or for any reason.

"Especially since he was the one in the wrong, not you," Bella added.

Esme spread her hands. "I was unable to give my husband an heir, so I bore all the blame. To be honest, I was grateful he let me live. If I'd had a convenient fall down a flight of stairs, I doubt anyone would have been surprised."

"Or held him to account," Bella muttered.

"Didn't he die in a riding accident?" Edward sat forward. "Something about a strap breaking when he was out hunting?"

"Yes. The strap was cut almost all the way through," Esme said. "Fortunately, I was away visiting my sister at the time or suspicion would have fallen on me. The list of likely suspects was too long to investigate, or so the magistrate said. The estate passed to my husband's brother, a more decent man, thank God. He would have let me continue living with him and my sister-in-law indefinitely, but as soon as the period of mourning had passed, Carlisle proposed."

Esme's smile transformed her already lovely features, and Edward found himself wondering if his father and new stepmother had engaged in an affair while she was still married. He would be the last to judge them if they had, but he couldn't fathom how his father had stood by and let the woman he loved be treated in such a manner.

Then again, maybe he hadn't. Whomever had cut the strap on Platt's horse had done society—and Esme—a favour.

~I~

"Are you sure it is wise to have gentlemen visit the home?" Bella asked at their meeting with the director of the charity home.

Her query earned a scowl from Edward. While he appreciated her concern, he refused to make further concessions. "I shall stay in the background if necessary, but you are _not_ to attend alone."

"And rightly so, but it won't be a problem." Miss Wright, a retired governess with a stern but capable demeanour, smiled her assurance. "While we are extremely grateful for the offer of financial support, we need the backing of gentlemen in positions of power if we are going to see laws passed to protect the rights of young girls."

"But I wouldn't want them to feel exploited in any way."

"You mustn't worry, Lady Isabella," Miss Wright said. "We make sure the more vulnerable girls feel safe, of course, but our young women must one day return to a world ruled by men. It is an important aspect of their recovery to learn not all members of the male gender are abusive, in particular not all gentlemen."

She glanced apologetically at Edward, who nodded grimly, refusing to be discouraged from his purpose.

~I~

The day of their visit was overcast, matching the mood of the group that assembled in the foyer of Cullen House. Esme was accompanying the two young couples who awaited the carriage to take them to a far less salubrious part of the city than they normally frequented. They had dressed soberly in deference to their destination, though Alice's choice of violet floral day gown, purple velvet pelisse, and lace-trimmed bonnet wasn't exactly what Bella had in mind when she had made the suggestion.

"I am wearing my smallest cameo brooch," Alice said in defence of her choice upon seeing Bella's questioning look.

Bella's own dress, the sombre navy gown she had worn while on the run from Lord Hunter—only including it when she had hurriedly packed for London for sentimental reasons—raised eyebrows of its own . . . Edward's.

He stepped close to her side. "Is that the same gown you wore to the markets in Worthey?"

She gave a wary nod. "I realise it is hardly appropriate attire for a future marchioness, but I thought I might appear less intimidating to the girls if I was dressed plainly. I hope you don't mind?"

"Mind?" His eyes darkened. "I was going to ask if you could wear that dress for me again after we're married. You're not the only one to have had some interesting dreams."

"You have dreamed of me?"

"Repeatedly," Edward whispered. "One, in particular, features you wearing that exact gown."

"A _pleasant_ dream?"

"Very."

Her cheeks flaming at the images his words—and her imagination—inspired, Bella fanned her face. _Only twenty-two days until the wedding,_ she reminded herself.

Chuckling, Edward assisted her to don her plainest coat, his expression sobering when Esme commented on the wisdom of Bella's suggestion regarding their attire.

"I imagine some of the girls will find our presence daunting," she said, having had heartbreaking experience with the issue in the past.

The nondescript building that housed the charity home was set back from the road and surrounded by a high brick wall. No signs advertised its purpose, in keeping with the secrecy that must be maintained to ensure the occupants' safety. Once past the gates, they discovered well-tended flower beds and fruit trees, with vegetable and herb gardens visible to the side and rear. A few young women paused in their labours and stood watching as Esme and the two young couples disembarked from the carriage. Bella offered a tentative wave, holding tightly to Edward's arm as they approached the front door.

After Miss Wright ushered them through to a plainly furnished drawing room, introductions were made to the members of the charity's board, all keen to meet their visitors. The matron of the home, a rotund lady by the name of Mrs Morley, curtsied repeatedly.

"We are very grateful to be allowed this opportunity and only want to be of service," Bella said, hoping to put her at ease.

"That's good, my lady," the matron said. "Very good, indeed."

While morning tea was served by a wide-eyed maid whose gaze kept darting between Edward and Jasper, Miss Wright catalogued the services provided by the home.

"Why don't we let them speak for themselves?" she suggested when Alice and Bella began asking questions about the girls who made their home in the well-kept but sparsely furnished residence. After a brief tour, they were shown a large, sunlit classroom filled with young women engaged in learning skills that would increase their chances of gaining respectable employment.

Miss Wright introduced their group to the class, who stood and made their curtsies, then she indicated Alice, Esme, and Bella could mingle amongst them. Edward and Jasper stayed in the hallway, but they still caused something of a stir. While most of the girls seemed apprehensive at their presence, some, who were quietly spoken to by the matron, sent openly flirtatious glances the men's way.

Bella could hardly blame them for taking note of two such handsome gentlemen. She was glad not all of the girls' spirits had been dampened by their experiences, but her attention was drawn to the ones who shied away. Privately questioning the director's assertion, the gentlemen's inclusion in this part of the tour was necessary, she wished there was some way to reassure the class of their good intentions.

A group of young women engaged in hat decorating caught Alice's eye, and she complimented them on their efforts. Shy at first, the girls quickly warmed to Alice's cheerful manner, and Bella inwardly applauded her future sister-in-law. The girls were all very taken with her bonnet and gown, and Alice eyed Bella pointedly. She merely smiled and pulled up a seat beside a golden-haired girl who looked to be little more than a child. The girl was making rosettes out of satin ribbon to use in decorating the hats. Bella admired her needlework, and after a faltering start, the girl summoned the courage to speak.

"Are ye really the princess wot worked as a maid?" she whispered, her eyes wide in her pale face.

"Indeed, I am," Bella said. "But I am not really a princess, though I will be a marchioness when I marry Lord Masen."

The girl flinched, her eyes darting to where Edward stood stiffly to attention.

"There's no need to be afraid. He is a good man," Bella said, hoping to assure the frightened child. "He helped me when I was in trouble."

"He's certainly 'andsome, not that it means anythin'." Hunching her shoulders, the girl focused on her work, and Bella complimented her on her stitching.

"It's much better than mine," she said with a rueful smile, recalling her woeful attempts at embroidery.

"How'd ye manage as a maid, my lady?" the girl asked, and Bella explained how she had found work assisting the pastry chef in the kitchen at Worthington. She kept her tales light, managing to inspire a giggle or two at the revelation of her incompetence at tea pouring and flower arranging. One by one, the other girls crept closer, listening in.

"Did ye find the work 'ard and the 'ours long?" a thin, mousy-haired girl asked.

"Very." Bella admitted with an exaggerated slump of her shoulders. "My muscles ached, and it felt like my head had just hit the pillow at night when it was time to arise the next morning and start all over again."

A few of her listeners smiled, though one girl's wistful response brought a lump to Bella's throat.

"I wouldn't care 'ow 'ard I 'ad to work or 'ow long my days were if it was respectable employment and I wasn't being bovered by one fella after another all-night long."

"Or beaten," another girl added.

Their words were echoed by the majority of the girls in the room. But when the slender young girl beside her quietly added, "Me neither." Bella felt a vice grip her heart.

A noise from the hallway caught her attention, and she looked up to see Edward and Jasper's stricken expressions. Alice had gone to join them, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Blinking back her own tears, Bella wondered what she could possibly say into the silence that followed. Then one of the girls asked if it was true she was related to the King, and the mood lifted as she was peppered with questions about her experiences as both maid and newly discovered member of the aristocracy. The girls were particularly taken with the tales Bella told of dancing at the King's ball, so she did her best to describe the glittering event.

"And ye really made friends wiv a maid?" one of the girls asked. "Ye a proper lady and 'er a servant?"

"Very good friends," Bella said. "Her name is Angela, and she is working as my lady's maid. Hopefully you can meet her when I return, as I shall insist she be allowed to accompany me."

"Why'd she want to meet us?" The girl eyed her warily. "Ye know wot we are or _were_."

"You are girls who have been dealt a terrible hand in life and are now making a new and hopefully much brighter future for yourselves," Bella said with feeling. "While I am not at liberty to share Angela's story, I can assure you she would be the last person to judge a single one of you."

"Wot about ye, my lady?" the mousy-haired girl asked. "Why are ye 'ere?"

"Because, while I can only imagine what you have suffered, I do know what it's like to be afraid and in fear of my life." Bella spared Edward a quick glance, unsurprised to find him watching her intently. "I promised myself if I was ever in the position to do so, I would help girls such as yourselves. Which brings me to a question of my own. How can I be of service?"

Her question engendered a variety of expressions—astonishment, wariness, and curiosity— but no response.

"What? You have no dreams for the future? There is nothing you would like to do or become?" She kept her tone light, hoping she wasn't overstepping the mark.

"I'd like to be a seamstress and make beautiful dresses like yer golden ball gown," the young, fair-haired girl said, and Bella smiled her encouragement.

"I want to be a cook."

"I want to be a pastry chef like Lady Isabella."

"I want to learn to be a midwife and bring bairns into the world."

"I want to be a maid, but in a house where the master won't expect me to . . . well, you know."

A number of girls murmured their agreement, and Bella swallowed the lump that had returned to her throat.

"I want to marry and 'ave a family of me own, but who'd 'ave me after the life I've led?"

The girl who voiced the question looked no older than Bella, except for the hardness around her eyes. Bella had no answer and was relieved when Mrs Morley stepped forward to reply.

"Now, Mary, I've told ye afore there are plenty of good men, farmers and miners and the like, who'll take on a capable lass who knows 'ow to tend 'ouse and will make a good mother."

"Aye, but not without a dowry. I ain't got nuthin' to offer, not even me virtue."

"How much is needed for a respectable dowry?"

Mrs Morley named a modest sum, and Bella blinked. One of her new bonnets would supply the dowries for several girls, and the cost of her new wardrobe could have furnished the entire contingent of girls with a new start in life, whatever their dreams might be.

Mrs Wright indicated it was time for them to leave, and Bella thanked the girls for their candour, promising to return.

~I~

"What you are thinking?" she asked Edward after dinner that evening, relieved not to have a function to attend. Like the rest of their group, he had stayed quiet on the journey home.

He took so long to answer that she wondered if he'd heard her, his gaze seemingly captivated by the twilit view out the window. Bella was considering whether she should repeat her question when he heaved a sigh and turned to face her.

"I thought I knew what to expect, but I was ill-prepared for what I heard and saw this afternoon. What those young women, just girls most of them, have been through . . . not to mention the dangers they must have faced to escape." He swallowed hard and stared down at their joined hands. "God knows, I understand why you have taken this particular cause so much to heart, but I'm worried about your putting yourself in harm's way."

Her father had said much the same thing, and she knew Carlisle concurred, but Bella couldn't remain silent. "It's the girls without such protection I am concerned about."

"I know." Edward shuddered. "When I think of what might have become of you . . ."

She squeezed his hand. "But it didn't, because of you."

"You have my support in this endeavour, but you must promise me you'll be careful. I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you."

"Nothing's going to happen." Ignoring their chaperones, Bella cupped his cheek with her hand. "I promise to be discreet . . . and careful," she added at his scowl. "But you are worrying needlessly. What harm can I possibly come to with you as my protector?"

 **~I~**

 **How are we doing? I do love hearing your thoughts.**

 **xx Elise**


	52. Change

**Happy Mother's Day! I wish I had a fluffier chapter to share, as this one is still 'darkish' and foreboding. I think you'll like the things Edward and Jasper have to say. Seems our entitled young lords are growing up!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Change**

"Drink?" Jasper raised his glass when Edward joined him that evening at their club.

"God, yes."

Both men sat in silence for a while, nursing their brandies while lost in similar thought.

"Did you ever . . ." Jasper shrugged a shoulder. "With _younger_ girls?"

"No! Well, not that I know of. I was only eighteen the first time. The girl was about my age, or so I assumed, older around the eyes. She seemed eager enough, but damned if I know whether it was an act or what had compelled her to such a calling. But I certainly never suspected any of the girls might be being held against their will."

"Nor I." Jasper grimaced. "But there were a couple of times when I was concerned the lassies were too young. Not ones I chose, as I had no desire to bed a child. I questioned a madam about it once, but she just laughed and offered me two girls for the price of one if I kept my mouth shut."

"Did you say anything?" Edward sat forward, curious to hear his friend's response.

"I told some more senior gentlemen, but they made sport of it. I should have reported my concerns, but to whom? I doubt the girls were younger than ten, so no laws were being broken."

"Bella's right." Edward slumped back in his chair. "The laws need to change, though I can't see it happening in a hurry."

"We would be laughed to scorn for suggesting it."

"Which doesn't mean we should do nothing _._ " Ignoring the problem was no longer an option. Edward's conscience had been well and truly exercised listening to the girls tell Bella their tales, though Jasper was right. Decades of struggle had yet to accomplish the abolishment of slavery abroad, despite concerted political will. Seeing girls protected from exploitation wasn't even open to discussion.

"What do you have in mind?"

Edward shrugged. "Supporting the charity home, of course." After what they had both witnessed, it was a given. "We'll need more homes and in places where security won't be such a nightmare."

Jasper nodded thoughtfully. "We'll have to be discreet, as there will be opposition from every quarter. The powers-that-be fear change, and the perpetrators won't take kindly to the loss of income. If Isabella's name is linked to this undertaking, she could find herself in danger . . . more danger than she's already in from Edgeley threatening to reveal what he knows."

"Don't remind me," Edward muttered.

"You've not told her about the blackmail?"

"No, and I have no intention of doing so. She has enough on her plate with this damned spectacle of a wedding the King is insisting upon without having to worry about her reputation being besmirched. She's already apprehensive about living up to her new role as my marchioness."

Jasper smirked. "Unnecessarily so. She has the society mamas eating out of her hand, the debutantes mimicking her every choice in fashion or interest, and half the gentlemen of the _ton_ professing undying admiration. As for the other half . . ." He waggled his brows, and Edward scowled. "The public have taken her to their heart, and the press adores her. Upon reflection, I believe she would have made an excellent queen."

"Oh, shut up." Edward threw an embroidered cushion at his friend.

Laughing, Jasper caught it easily. "How ever did we mistake her for a maid?"

"God only knows."

"At least you had the insight to recognise her potential."

"From the first glance." Edward smiled at the memory. "She attracted ne'er-do-wells like moths to a flame and was blatantly ill-equipped to deal with the dangers inherent in a life of servitude. I held out for an entire month before making her mine, resisting until I deemed it the only way to protect her."

"A great hardship on your part, if I recall," Jasper added dryly.

Edward smiled, but it soon faded.

"At least Hunter is out of the picture, but I've got to get Edgeley off our backs. He keeps upping the amounts he expects me to pay, and I'm guessing it's only time before his greed overrules what little common sense he possesses. When I think of his taste for young girls, like that fair-haired lass Bella was sitting beside today, it makes my blood boil. If only we could find something I could use against him."

"As to that . . . I received a report I had been waiting on when I arrived home this afternoon." The bleakness of Jasper's expression focused Edward's attention. "Girls go missing all the time in the poorer parts of the city. More often than not, nothing is done about it, but lately, much younger girls have been taken, and in large numbers. There's talk of an organised ring."

"Edgeley wouldn't attach himself to such a sordid undertaking, surely?" Edward was aware the man was a blackguard now, but they'd once been friends. He found it hard to imagine one of his peers could stoop so low.

"There's a hellish amount of money to be made, and more than a few gentlemen involved. You'd be surprised how many respectable members of society have links to one form of vice or another, and not just as a means of indulgence."

Edward shook his head. It would seem the prohibition for those of their class to "dabble in trade" didn't apply when the pickings were rich, the victims powerless, and society content to look the other way.

"Like I said, it's time the laws were changed, but since that will most likely take decades and requires a political will that does not yet exist, we must do what we can in the meantime."

"Starting with neutralising the threat Edgeley poses."

"You have something we can use against him?"

"Nothing you could present in the House, but my man has found witnesses willing to testify Edgeley is part of a group abusing boys. Society will turn a blind eye to young girls, but this could seriously harm his standing."

"Blasted pederasts." Edward was appalled by the practice—and the hypocrisy—but willing to use it to defuse the threat of Bella's past being exposed. "It looks like we need to add setting up a home for young boys to our list."

"Damned sordid business." Jasper grimaced. "As much as I admire their eagerness to assist the victims, I wish our ladies could be protected from such knowledge."

"Amen to that," Edward muttered, more determined than ever not to add to Bella's burden.

~I~

"What do you mean you shan't be paying any more of my gambling debts?" Edgeley demanded when Edward tracked him down later that night. "Do you honestly think the papers won't turn on Lady Isabella like a pack of ravening wolves if I disclose what I know?"

"If her reputation is tarnished in any manner that can be traced to your door, I will delight in exposing you as a pederast, a far more damaging disclosure, wouldn't you say?" Edward stepped up close to his old friend turned nemesis. "You can forget ensnaring a dowered debutante when I'm finished with you. You will be a pariah, unwelcome in a single respectable home."

Edgeley's jaw worked convulsively. "You don't know who, or what _,_ you are dealing with, Masen."

"Filth," Edward spat. "Blackmailing filth. How does it feel to have the tables turned?"

To Edward's surprise, a sly smile curved the other man's lip.

"The tables have definitely been turned, but I doubt you will enjoy the outcome as much as I will."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Edward resisted the urge to grab Edgeley by the throat, though the temptation was almost overwhelming. "If you think I won't expose you if my betrothed's reputation is harmed, you are sorely mistaken."

Edgeley shrugged. "I've no intention of harming your lovely lady's reputation. Under the circumstances you have created, I imagine it is quite an asset."

He turned and sauntered away, while Edward watched, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He feared the upper hand had been stolen from him, but he wasn't sure how.

 **~I~**

 **Hmmm...this is a short chapter and finishes on such a foreboding note. I think another, fluffier, one is needed. It is Mother's Day after all!**

 **xx Elise**


	53. Impatient

**Oops! I slept in. It's still Mother's Day in some parts of the world...just!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Impatient**

Bella felt like all of London was caught up in the excitement of her pending marriage to Edward. Between the daily updates in the social pages, the incessant questioning to which they were subjected at whatever society event they attended of an evening, and the seemingly never-ending fittings and preparations, it was a struggle not to become overwhelmed. Her impatience to become Edward's wife was never in doubt, but her enthusiasm was tempered by the knowledge the majestic ceremony would bear little resemblance to the small, intimate affair she would have preferred.

She wasn't sure what was worse . . . the knowledge crowds would line the street to watch the bridal procession, the enormity of the church service that was to be followed by a wedding breakfast at the palace in the early afternoon, or that she would be attended by no less than seven bridesmaids, chosen by the King, most of whom she had yet to meet. Alice would be acting as her maid of honour, her younger friend's enthusiasm unbridled. Penelope's young sons were to be page boys, and Bella assured the nervous lads they would be very dapper in their roles.

Jasper was to stand up with Edward, and having warmed to him considerably during their time in London, Bella didn't have to feign her pleasure at the announcement. Her reaction upon discovering Lord McCarty, her soon-to-be cousin-in-law, Emmett, would also be included in the wedding party was not nearly as charitable and led to Edward's and her first domestic disagreement.

"Emmett?" Bella frowned. "Your _cousin_ Emmett?"

"Who else?" Edward laughed. "He'll be standing up with me alongside Jasper for the ceremony."

"But Uncle Carlisle said it would take at least six months to oversee the restoration of his estate in Ireland, possibly twelve."

"And it will, I imagine, but when I asked Father, he agreed that Emmett and Rosalie should be allowed to return for our wedding."

Bella couldn't believe this was happening. "You _requested_ their presence?"

"Of course. Emmett's like a brother to me."

"When will they be here?"

Edward shrugged. "In good time for the wedding. Within the week, I suppose."

"Within the week?" Bella's voice rose. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I'm telling you now." Her all-too-handsome, mostly considerate, but sometimes incredibly obtuse husband-to-be spread his hands. "Emmett's behaviour at Worthington was boorish, but I thought his apology sufficient. I'm certain he would be willing to proffer it again if that would help."

"His apology is not the issue." Bella folded her arms.

"Are you nervous about being in his presence? You have nothing to fear from my cousin."

"It's not _Lord_ McCarty I'm afraid of." Angry tears sprang to her eyes, and Edward's expression sobered.

"Rosalie," he said flatly.

"I didn't think I would have to face her so soon." Bella had known it would happen one day—the idea the stuff of nightmares. She'd expected a little more warning, not to be threatened with the possible ruination of her wedding.

"She's family, I'm afraid." Edward reached for her hand, Bella's response in accepting it uncharacteristically slow. "But that's no excuse for her rudeness. I guarantee she will treat you with the utmost respect, or she'll have me to answer to."

"Rudeness?" Bella snatched her hand away. "It's not poor manners I'm afraid of. I was almost trampled to death because of your cousin's wife. Not to mention the fact she went out of her way to sabotage our relationship, took my mother's pearls, and called me a _tart_."

"In fairness, she did believe you were a commoner."

"Which is no excuse for treating a person abominably." Edward's placating tone had done him no favours, and Bella began to pace. "She took great delight in revealing our situation to your father upon his return in the most damaging manner possible, calling me a whore and inferring I had willingly shared my bed with not one, but _four_ men."

"I can understand why you are not in a hurry to befriend her."

"Befriend her?" Bella stopped and faced him. "It shall take all my restraint not to slap her senseless. Rosalie had better understand that circumstances have changed now that I am no longer masquerading as a servant. If she thinks I shall meekly submit to her abuse or stand by while she makes a play for _my_ betrothed, she's in for a rude awakening."

Edward's smirk—and the insecurity she had unwittingly revealed—did little to douse Bella's ire. But before she could scold him further, he pulled her into his embrace, ignoring their family members engaged in a spirited game of whist at the far end of the drawing room.

"You have nothing to fear with regards to Rosalie or any other woman," he said softly. "For I only have, and will only _ever_ have, eyes for you."

His declaration brought a reluctant smile to Bella's lips, one that curved more freely when she considered how he'd already demonstrated the veracity of his words. Ignoring the fact he was betrothed, or that she was invariably standing by his side, the young debutantes at the social engagements they attended practically threw themselves at Edward. It should have galled, but he paid them so little mind, his attention fixed on Bella at all times, that it was actually quite gratifying. The jealousy he displayed when foolish gentlemen fawned over her, while flattering, was entirely unnecessary.

After being told by the Mallory sisters back home in Forkton that her unfashionable red hair was a death knell for her chances of finding acceptance, Bella had expected to be shunned when she made her debut. When she imagined the reaction of her childhood friends-come-nemeses to discovering their neighbour was related to royalty—and to Edward when they met him—she couldn't help but chuckle. Since the King was determined to make her wedding a public event they, along with the rest of Forkton society, had been invited. But she was most looking forward to seeing Jacob, Leah, and the extended family of household staff whom Bella's father had insisted receive invitations.

The visit to the charity home, while challenging, was a welcome distraction from the fuss and drama of the wedding preparations and stimulated vigorous conversation amongst their group. They were eager to be of assistance, their first course of action being to commission the board of the charity to advise them of areas of need and formulate a plan for expansion.

"I would like to see us establish a home and training college close to Masen Park," Edward said. "Security wouldn't be such a nightmare, and Bella could continue her involvement with the charity once we're settled in the country."

His suggestion went a long way to making up for his cousin's inclusion in their wedding party and endeared him to Bella even more than she thought possible. Jasper's determined, if sober, involvement in their discussions and planning had a similar effect on Alice, and she joined Bella in her room late one evening to share her thoughts regarding his efforts.

"I'm convinced his feelings for me are genuine," she said, as the two young women sat cross-legged on Bella's bed, clothed only in their nightgowns. "He was sincerely moved by what he saw at the home, his conscience exercised to make confession as well as spur him to action."

"Confession?" Bella sat forward. "He spoke with you regarding his previous experiences?"

Alice nodded, dropping her gaze to where her hands plucked at the white linen sheets.

"What did he say?" Bella prompted.

"That after coming into his inheritance as a young man, he did not _always_ conduct himself in a gentlemanly manner," Alice said, her words in the form of a recitation. "He admitted to visiting houses of ill repute as a younger man but only on occasion and not for some time, certainly not since making my acquaintance."

"Oh." Bella released the breath she was holding. If it were Lord Edgeley's past in question, she imagined the litany of his sins would have been a lot longer. He'd been noticeably absent during her time in London, and she dreaded their eventual meeting. Edward had assured her there was no need to worry, that he'd been warned not to make trouble, but she feared a man with so little honour could not be trusted.

"Jasper says he loves me." Alice looked up to meet Bella's gaze. "And he wants to spend the rest of our lives proving the genuineness of his feelings."

"And you believe him?"

"Yes, I do."

"That's wonderful." Bella smiled at her friend and future sister-in-law before asking cheekily, "And he has kissed you _properly_?"

"He certainly has. Hiding in the shadows on the terrace at the Crompton's ball." A dreamy smile curved Alice's lips. "It was everything you said it would be . . . warm, tender, and really quite breathtaking. I didn't want him to stop, but he said he's determined to treat me with the utmost respect and has no intention of taking advantage of my passionate nature before the wedding. I think he's afraid of what Edward and my father would do to him," she added, in an aside. "So . . . I told him that was perfectly acceptable as long as we could share many more such kisses during our courtship and betrothal. I also told him once we were married, he must promise to bring me to the pinnacle of desire as often as I required."

Bella's mouth dropped open. "You didn't really say such a thing?"

Alice shrugged and both girls succumbed to a fit of giggles.

"How did he respond?" Bella asked when their laughter died down.

"Well." Alice leaned closer. "He didn't say anything for the longest time, just stared at me with his mouth opening and closing. When he finally agreed to my demand, his voice was quite hoarse, his brogue almost too thick for me to understand."

"I'll bet it was," Bella murmured, thinking she could do with an interlude in the shadows herself, not to mention being brought to the pinnacle of desire. But quite aside from the commitment they'd made to wait until they were wed, she and Edward were observed a little too closely to take the risk. On the positive side, as the days to her wedding counted down, Bella had begun feeling more confident about successfully fulfilling the role of his marchioness. She was even hopeful their marital relationship might be characterised by the lack of constraint they had experienced at Worthington. Their desire for one another was certainly undiminished. If anything, it had grown, with the slightest brush of their fingers inducing sharp intakes of breath.

"I could feel you watching me from across the room," she had whispered one evening when they were seated close together at the theatre.

"Did it bother you?" Hidden in the shadows, Edward had held her hand, placing kisses on her palm when no one was looking.

"I'm not sure our hosts approved, but I enjoyed it very much. Having your gaze upon me is like an invisible caress down my spine."

Edward's groan had earned a look of rebuke from Carlisle who, along with Esme, had accompanied them for the evening.

"I'm heartily sick of feeling like an errant child requiring constant supervision," Edward had grumbled. "Not that I have any right to complain. Our parents—your father, in particular—have been remarkably accommodating, all things considered."

Bella had agreed, though she couldn't deny she was impatient to be rid of the need for chaperones once and for all.

 **~I~**

 **I do love Alice, the cheeky minx. ;)**

 **xx Elise**


	54. Ruse

**My apologies for missing a day without notice. Real life has bitten me in the butt, literally, and everywhere else. We've had an infestation of invisible biting mites, and it's like taking on a full time job trying to get rid of the darned things!**

 **Brace yourselves, as this chapter gets mighty angsty!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Ruse**

With less than a week to the wedding, Bella found herself torn between excitement that it was finally going to happen and anxiety over the public nature of the event. With Edward busy preparing for the upcoming antislavery vote, her father off visiting Penelope, and Emmett and Rosalie due to arrive at any moment, she was in desperate need of a distraction. Since baking wasn't an option, she hoped some sketching would help calm her nerves. But after her third failed attempt at achieving a reasonable likeness of the Cullen House cat, Bella threw down her pencil in disgust.

"You seem a little out of sorts." Esme's smile was sympathetic. "Would you like to accompany me and Alice on a shopping expedition?"

Bella hesitated to say yes, as there were only so many fripperies one could possibly need.

"We're visiting a bookstore," her future stepmother-in-law added, and Bella's reluctance disappeared.

Returning to the charity home several times since their first visit, she had discussed with Miss Wright ways in which she could be of more direct assistance. While females of the lower classes were almost never given the opportunity to learn to read and write, the charity home director was of the opinion a basic education could open up a world of opportunities for the girls, an opinion Bella shared. When young Seth, the kitchen-hand-cum-stable-boy who had defended her in the markets of Worthey, learned of Bella's intentions, he volunteered to be her first student. Since he was keen to better himself, and she was determined to develop her teaching skills, they made a good team.

When Esme sent word for Ben to bring the carriage around, Bella asked if Seth could accompany them. Twenty minutes later, they were ensconced in the bookstore, Bella with an eye to adding another Jane Austen novel to her collection once Seth had finished making his selection from amongst the children's books.

"Excuse me, Bella." Alice approached from where she had been studying the latest fashion journals. "There's a quaint little shop just two doors down that sells parasols and fans. Would you mind if Esme and I go take a look and meet you back here when we're finished?"

"Of course not. Take as long as you need."

With Seth engrossed in the pages of an illustrated copy of _One Thousand and One Nights_ , Bella looked forward to exploring the shelves without interruption, or so she hoped. Recognised from the drawings of Edward and her that regularly appeared in the papers, she was having to adjust to being somewhat of a public figure, anonymity now a thing of the past. So, it was with a resigned sigh she turned to face the red-haired young woman, a commoner by her plain attire, who approached her a few moments after Alice and Esme departed.

"Are ye Lady Isabella?" The woman's gaze flitted from side to side. "The one the paper says is 'elping young girls wot need rescuin'?"

To Bella's dismay, word of her involvement with the charity had escaped after a canny reporter followed her to the home on one of her recent visits. The man had promised not to disclose the location of the home—having been threatened with dire consequences if the news was leaked and paid a generous bonus for his silence—but she couldn't help worrying.

"I am she." Bella stepped closer to the young woman. "Is there some way I can be of assistance?"

"It's me sister, my lady. She was taken by some men to work in one of them 'orrid places, but she managed to escape. She's 'urt real bad, and I'm afraid they're going to find 'er and take 'er wiv 'em again."

Bella's hand rose to her chest. "Where is your sister now?"

"Hidin' in the alley out back of the shop, my lady. I need yer to take 'er to one of 'em places wot keeps girls safe."

"How did you know where to find me?" It wasn't the first time someone had asked for help in response to the newspaper articles, but the others had approached the servants' entry at Cullen House.

"A friend of mine saw ye with the other ladies out the front of the shop and ran to tell me. I was tryin' to think 'ow to find ye before it was too late, knowin' the likes of me would never be granted an audience with a grand lady like yerself. It's like God answered me prayers."

Although Bella would have been glad to speak with her if she had come to the house, she could understand the young woman's apprehension. Convinced of her sincerity, she called for Seth, who put down his book.

"There's a young girl who needs our help waiting at the rear of this shop," she said. "Could you ask Ben to bring the carriage around to the alley to collect us, then go and tell Her Grace and Lady Alice we shall meet them out front in a few moments. I'm going to wait with . . ."

"Veronica. Me name's Veronica."

"I'm going to wait with Veronica and her sister."

"Why don't ye just bring the girl through the shop, my lady?" Seth eyed the woman warily.

"Because she's been hurt, and I don't want to draw attention to her plight."

The shopkeeper, while not wanting to offend a lady, was hesitant when she requested permission to pass through his living quarters. Bella chafed at the time it took to explain the situation, her thoughts with the injured child waiting frightened and alone in the alley.

"What's your sister's name?" she asked Veronica as they entered the dingy lane.

"Beth," she replied, grabbing hold of Bella's wrist and pulling her along.

"Where are we going?" Bella tried to prise the woman's fingers loose, but her grip was too tight. "I thought you said your sister was waiting behind the shop?"

"She's 'iding further down behind those rubbish bins."

Bella's alarm subsided, as she could only imagine how terrified the poor girl must be. But when they reached the bins, there was no one there. Glancing ahead, she caught sight of what looked like the rear of a vehicle protruding into the alleyway, her instincts belatedly warned her there was something amiss.

"Oh, look. There's yer carriage waitin' for us," Veronica said.

"No, it's not." Bella tried to pull away. "My driver couldn't have possibly arrived already. Let me go!"

"Not till I'm paid me doss," Veronica muttered, and Bella began to struggle in earnest.

"Help! Somebody he—" Her words were cut off when a man stepped out of the shadows and clamped his large, sweaty hand over her mouth.

"Ye be quiet, missy, or the master will 'urt ye bad." Her captor grabbed her around the middle, squeezing the air from her lungs. "Well, worse than 'e's already plannin'."

No match for the man's strength, Bella was soon bundled inside the carriage, landing heavily on her knees. The door slammed behind her, the shrouded carriage lurching into motion before she had a chance to get her bearings.

"Reunited at last, _Lady_ Isabella."

A voice she had hoped never to hear again came out of the darkness, and Bella's blood ran cold.

"Lord Hunter?" She whimpered.

A match being struck sounded loudly, and a lantern attached to the wall illuminated his face. Scrambling backwards, Bella came up hard against the bench opposite before lunging for the door handle, crying out when she found it was locked.

"Oh, don't carry on so," Lord Hunter scolded. "The journey's not overly long, but you may as well make yourself comfortable . . . while you can."

With her heart racing, Bella rose shakily to take a seat. "What can you possibly hope to achieve by abducting me?" Huddling in the corner, she kept as far back as she could from the man who had already caused her so much misery.

"Let me see." He rubbed his chin. "I want revenge for all the trouble you have caused me, recompense for the fortune I was denied, and oh yes, your complete and abject ruin. Your father should not have rejected my offer of marriage. It was meant in quite good faith . . . well, other than the fact I was more interested in getting my hands on that priceless pearl necklace of yours, and whatever benefit I could gain from your _illustrious_ heritage, than marriage to a little country miss. If the royal connections I suspected you possessed—rightly, it would seem—hadn't panned out, I planned to sell you on to one of my less gentlemanlike acquaintances. Oh, how droll." He laughed. "The outcome for you is much the same."

"You're insane," Bella whispered. "Lord Masen, my father, even the King . . . they will not rest until they've found me. You cannot possibly get away with this."

"I must beg to differ. Less than twenty-four hours from now, you'll have been smuggled out of the country and we'll both be on our way to meet our destinies, mine a life of ease and yours as a rich potentate's concubine or the star attraction in one of the more exclusive Oriental establishments. There are those who will pay a very pretty price for the privilege of bedding a sweet English rose, especially one who just happens to be cousin to our King. The novelty value alone will send the selling price through the roof, not to mention your glorious red hair."

Bella stared at him in horror.

"You can have my pearl necklace, and more. My mother brought a treasure trove of jewels with her from France. They're worth a fortune."

"So, I've heard." Hunter glared at her. "But I have no intention of being snared in a trap. You needn't worry about my financial well-being, Isabella. When I was forced to flee these shores—thanks to you _—_ I stumbled upon some like-minded individuals and am now engaged in a very lucrative trade, one you're about to become all too familiar with. You're older than the other girls I have collected, but your unique status should more than make up for your advanced years."

A sob rose in Bella's chest, but she stifled it, silently praying for a miracle. She should never have gone into the alleyway alone, but Veronica had been so convincing.

A movement above Lord Hunter's head caught her attention, and she glanced up to see Seth had lifted the flap over the rear window of the carriage and was peering in at them. Her breath hitched, but her captor was too busy gloating about how easily she had been fooled to notice her reaction. Seth signalled Bella's silence with a finger to his lips, then he mimed plucking something from his wrist and letting it go before pointing to Bella's lap. While Hunter droned on, she brought her right hand to the pearl bracelet Edward had given her. The clasp had broken, catching in the sleeve of her pelisse, and she could feel by the gaps in the strand that a few pearls were missing. Blinking slowly, she acknowledged Seth's plan and carefully freed the remaining pearls, capturing them in her hand. Each precious bauble reminded her of Edward's love, giving her hope Hunter's plans would be thwarted. He would move Heaven and Earth to find her . . . she just prayed he wouldn't be too late.

The carriage lurched to a halt, and Hunter hauled her against his side, clasping a hand over her mouth.

"I considered drugging you," he murmured close to her ear, "or a blindfold, but you have no possible chance of escape, and I rather like the idea of you observing every single step along the path to your humiliation. Now be a good girl and don't struggle. We wouldn't want to bruise the merchandise . . . not yet, anyway."

With no chance of overpowering him, Bella pretended submission born of abject terror, a charade that took little effort on her part. Loosening her fingers, she dropped a couple of pearls as they alighted from the carriage and heard them skitter away. Lord Hunter took no notice of the faint sound, hurrying her towards the entrance of the building opposite. Before she could catch sight of more than brick walls in another dark alleyway, Bella was forced through a narrow doorway and up a flight of stairs. Pretending to stumble, she placed another pearl in a crevice next to the wall, accomplishing a similar feat at the top of the landing.

Cursing her clumsiness, Lord Hunter gripped her tightly around the middle, preventing her from leaving any more of a trail until they had made another turn. Taking a risk, she dropped a pearl, glancing over her shoulder to see it roll against the wall. After yet another turn, he stopped outside a doorway, and she quickly placed a pearl on the nearby windowsill, slumping against it while he unlocked the door. Once it was open, he shoved Bella inside, and she landed on the floor beside the large bed that dominated the cheerless room. No longer focused on attempting to leave a trail, she clutched the remaining pearls in her hand, her fear returning with a vengeance.

"Don't worry. I'm not planning on robbing you of your virtue . . . just yet." Her captor walked over and hauled her to her feet. "I shall await the doctor's verdict before making my final decision. Virgins collect the highest price, so if you're intact, the honour of your deflowering will be granted to your new master. He'll pay handsomely for the privilege, I assure you. But if, as is rumoured, your Lord Masen has already had the pleasure"—he chuckled evilly—"you can expect to spend the time from now until your sale pandering to _my_ every desire. Actually, I think that's going to happen regardless, as there are ways around every obstacle."

Tears stung her eyes, but Bella refused to cry in front of him, raising her chin in what defiance she could muster.

"You will regret your actions this day, Lord Hunter."

The sound of his mocking laughter stayed with her after he had exited the room. Before Bella could attempt an escape, the door opened again, and Veronica entered, her features twisted with contempt.

"Yer to undress for the doctor," she ordered.

Bella refused, but her resistance was limited by her desire to keep her fist full of pearls in case they could be of use. Holding onto her dignity as best she could, she was left quivering with both cold and outrage, dressed only in her thin chemise.

"His Lordship wants me to leave ye in 'ere, but I don't see why ye should get a room to yerself." Veronica scowled. "Ye can wait with the other girls. Maybe ye can stop their bloomin' caterwaulin' . . . wot wiv ye bein' an angel of mercy an' all."

Bella went willingly, dropping a couple more pearls along the way. By the pitiful sounds of weeping, she knew when they had arrived at the room where the girls Lord Hunter had "collected" were being held, a burly-looking man standing guard outside.

"Ye sure the master wants 'er in wiv this lot?" he asked Veronica while eyeing Bella's barely clothed form.

"I'm 'is woman, regardless of all the others, and ye better remember that." Veronica clenched her fist at the guard who raised his hands.

" 'Or, right, 'or, right," he muttered, unlocking the door.

While they were distracted, Bella took the opportunity to drop a pearl, which landed a couple of inches from the edge of the door frame. Nudging it with her bare toes, she pushed it against the wall where it would hopefully be visible to a searching eye but not easily spotted. Once inside the room, she stumbled to a halt. A dozen or so girls, some little more than infants, sat huddled together on the floor of the cold, bare room. Uniformly pretty, they were all fair with varying shades of blond or red hair, some wearing clean dresses, while others were clothed in little more than rags.

"What sort of people are you?" Bella turned on her captors. "They're just little girls. Don't you know what's going to happen to them?"

The man shrugged and returned to his place outside the door, while Veronica laughed.

"Oh, I know all right. Same as wot 'appened to me when I was their age, and same as wot's goin' to 'appen to ye, miss 'igh and mighty. Now keep 'em quiet, or I'll send someone in to shut yers all up."

The door slammed behind her, leaving the shuttered room in semidarkness.

"Don't be afraid." Bella cautiously approached the weeping girls. "I'm not going to hurt you."

One of the older girls, though she was surely no more than eight or nine, stepped forward.

"Can ye get us out of 'ere, miss?" She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. "Me mam's goin' to be so cross wiv me for gettin' took, but the man offered me and me sister a whole bag full of toffees."

Bella's mind reeled at the depths of Lord Hunter's depravity, but she tried to keep her horror from showing.

"I'm going to do my very best to get us all out of here," she said. "But I need you to be very brave, and you must be ready to run at a moment's notice."

"How ye gonna do that, miss? Get us out?"

Crouching down so she was at their eye level, Bella whispered, "Can you keep a secret?"

The girls nodded, their eyes like saucers.

"I hope to be rescued shortly by my betrothed, the Marquis of Masen. He's a very good man and will stop at nothing to find me."

Bella stifled a sob, the possibility he wouldn't arrive in time almost robbing her of breath.

"Does he know yer 'ere?" the first girl asked.

"No." Bella shivered. "But a young friend of mine followed me when I was taken, and I'm sure he's on his way to alert the authorities at this very moment. As soon as I'm rescued, I promise to come for you."

"Couldn't ye just stay wiv us?" A little urchin of not more than five or six stepped forward. "I don't feel so scared wiv ye 'ere, miss."

"I would love to stay with you, but I fear the men will come to collect me soon. Whatever happens, I want you to be very brave and take care of one another. I'll be back for you as quickly as I can. In the meantime, I have a special gift for you."

Smiling to mask her fear, Bella showed the girls the remaining pearls, passing out one apiece to the frightened but now curious girls.

"If Lord Masen or his friend, Lord Whitlock, should come looking for me, you can show them the pearls and they'll know I was here." To the older girl, Bella added in a quiet aside, "If someone comes to rescue me, let them know I have left a trail of pearls in the corridor. It will help them know where to find me."

"Ye _will_ come back for us?" Tears welled in the girl's eyes.

"I shall do my very best." She gathered them all close for a quick hug, her heart sinking when she heard the door open.

"How touching," Lord Hunter drawled. "Now get over here, Isabella."

Not wanting him to harm the girls, she obeyed without hesitation.

"What the hell was Veronica thinking bringing you here?" He grabbed hold of her arm. "With that hair, you're far too recognisable. I'll have to take you the back way."

Bella had hoped to drop her few remaining pearls where they might be spotted, but Lord Hunter took her through a different door at the back of the room. Locking it behind him, he dragged her with him down a narrow corridor that led to the room where Veronica had stripped her of her coat and gown. Two men were waiting inside, one short and balding, dressed in an ill-fitting suit, and the other . . . Lord Edgeley.

"You!" Bella recoiled in horror.

Without preamble, Edgeley walked up and slapped her across the face.

"That's for costing me Lady Alice's dowry," he snarled while Bella cradled her stinging cheek. "A damned maid, and Masen valued your virtue over the wishes of a friend. I bet he knew all along who you were, though why he wants to marry you after you behaved like a trollop is beyond me."

"I'd say that's exactly why." Hunter laughed.

"The fool shouldn't have threatened me," Edgeley continued. "And he should have kept paying. If your _protector_ wasn't such an arrogant sod, thinking he could get the better of me because he's a marquis while I'm only a baron, I would have left the arrangement in place. It was a nice little earner, but he had to rock the boat, and now I'll be exacting payment out of your pretty hide instead."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Bella said, her heart in her throat. "But if it's money you are after, Edward would pay a king's ransom for my return, as would my father."

"She has a point." Edgeley turned to Hunter, his eyes shining with greed.

"We've been over this," the older man snapped. "The risk is too great. _You_ might not value your neck, but I have no desire to have mine stretched. Don't worry. We'll make a fortune on her sale as well as having some fun beforehand, whatever the verdict. You have given me all sorts of ideas with that slap."

Picking Bella up, Hunter threw her onto the bed. As soon as she landed, she scrambled to the far side, but Edgeley grabbed hold of her ankle and wrenched her back, holding her legs while Hunter stretched her arms above her head and tied her wrists to the headboard, pulling the rope tight.

"Leave me alone!" she yelled, earning another slap.

With tears blinding her eyes, Bella watched the doctor approach, her breath coming in harsh pants. She'd intended to be brave, to endure whatever they did to her with stoicism while focusing on being rescued, on being reunited with Edward. But with the feel of her attackers' hands on her body, fear and revulsion overwhelmed her.

"Please, don't do this" she heard herself beg, knowing her words were futile.

"Silence!" Edgeley squeezed Bella's leg so tightly she cried out in pain.

"Don't bruise her too badly," Hunter ordered. "And as for her making noise, I'm rather looking forward to the sound of her screams."

The doctor, who'd made no comment and done naught to help her, caught hold of the hem of her chemise and began to lift it higher. With the two lords leering down at her, Bella closed her eyes and tried to picture Edward's face.

 **~I~**

 **This is a truly evil cliffie, probably the worst one I've ever written! So, I'm off to have pizza and watch a movie with hubby . . . and then I'll be back to post the next chapter. Waiting a whole day is too much to ask of anyone!**

 **xx Elise**


	55. Missing

**This is the second chapter I've posted tonight, so make sure you read the earlier one, called 'Ruse,' first!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Missing**

"What do you mean, Bella is missing?" Edward broke away from greeting his cousin and strode towards his weeping sister.

"I'm sorry, Edward, so sorry. I shouldn't have left her alone, and all for a silly parasol, but I thought she was safe enough in a bookstore. A bookstore!"

Alice dissolved into hysterics, and Edward handed her over to Jasper before turning to his stepmother, who was standing just inside the door, tearless but ashen-faced.

"We only left her for a few minutes, and not completely alone." Esme wrung her hands together. "Young Seth was right beside her, but when we returned from visiting the haberdashery a few doors down, they were both gone."

"Gone where?"

Bella had promised him she would be careful, but he should have told her not to leave the house without her father or himself as escort. Shaking his head, he focused on Esme's words.

"The owner of the bookstore said she and Seth went with a young woman into the alleyway behind, something about rescuing an injured girl. But when we looked, the lane was empty."

"A trap," Jasper said, and Edward shuddered at the implication. A firm hand gripped his shoulder, and he looked into Emmett's determined gaze.

"Don't worry. We'll bring her home."

Edward nodded, his fear replaced by an icy resolve.

~I~

"Are you sure this is the place?"

Seth nodded, his eyes wide in his freckled face.

"See? Over there by the step."

Edward followed the line of the boy's finger, squinting to catch sight of the pearls the boy swore he had seen Bella drop before climbing down from the back of the carriage and retracing his steps to the bookstore.

The lad had made the right decision not travelling the extra distance to Cullen House. Within moments of hearing Alice and Esme's report, Edward, Jasper, and Emmett had called for their horses, riding straight to the last place where Bella and Seth were seen.

The shopkeeper had repeated his claim to have escorted Bella and her companion through to the alleyway where she'd told him there was a little girl in need, the perfect ruse for ensuring her compliance. If Seth hadn't trusted his instincts, choosing to follow his master's betrothed into the alleyway rather than delivering her instructions to Ben and the others, they would have had no way of knowing where she'd been taken. The boy hadn't been able to identify her captor, his vantage point providing only a view of the man's top hat and cloak, but it was enough.

A gentleman.

Edward's money was on Edgeley, and he cursed himself for provoking the coward. How the man believed he would achieve anything other than his own brutal demise was a testament to his arrogance.

"The lad is sure this is the place," Edward said as Jasper edged up beside him, Emmett close behind. They'd left their horses tethered out of sight and were huddled behind some crates in an alleyway.

"These old buildings are like rabbit warrens, with connecting doors and hidden corridors," Jasper whispered. "We'd do best to call for more support, but there's no time."

Edward nodded. They needed to get Bella out of the clutches of whoever had her before . . . Refusing to complete the thought, he squeezed his eyes shut for a second.

"What do you suggest?"

"Your father will have received word and alerted the authorities. Seth should go back to the shop and guide them here, or they'll end up driving around in circles. It's a wonder he found his way out or back again."

"I've always had a good sense of direction." The boy shrugged, and Edward patted his back.

"Take Sabre," he said, and Seth nodded before scurrying away.

"I'll go up on the roof and enter that way." Jasper pointed. "Emmett can go around the front to create a diversion, and you go in through this door. Use your pistol, but we should stick with swords once inside, if possible. A stray bullet could just as easily take out an innocent, so don't fire your weapons unless absolutely necessary."

"Remember to keep an eye out for any pearls Bella may have dropped," Edward added. "They might lead us to her."

Jasper clasped his arm. "Don't worry. We'll find her, and we'll make the bastard pay."

"Bloody oath, we will," Emmett added before disappearing into the shadows. Jasper soon followed, and Edward waited the agonising minutes his friend had stipulated before approaching the door through which Bella had been taken. The man who answered towered over him, but he granted Edward entry quickly enough when a pistol was shoved in his face.

"Hey, there's no need for that, gov." The thug raised his hands. "There're plenty of girls. If ye 'ead around to the front door, ye can take yer pick."

"I'm interested in a different sort of girl—a lady who was brought here against her will. Help me find her, and I shall let you live."

Fear filled the man's eyes before his gaze flitted to the nearby stairs. "I don't know nothin' about no lady."

Edward cocked the firing mechanism on the pistol, jamming it more tightly under the man's chin.

"All right, all right." Sweat broke out on his brow. "She's up the stairs, but yer too late. The master's wiv 'er, and 'e's got company. Better to forget 'er and find yerself another lass. She won't be no use to yer once they're done."

"Take me to her." Releasing some of his pent-up rage, Edward spun the man around and shoved him forward. Halfway up the stairs, a glimmer caught his eye.

 _That's my brave, resourceful girl,_ he reminded himself as he bent down to snatch up the pearl wedged against the wall. At the top of the stairs, he checked to make sure there was no one waiting for him, then took note of the hallway that stretched in both directions. Jasper was right, and the buildings were connected internally.

"Move," Edward ordered when his unwilling guide hesitated. "And don't even think about leading me astray, or I will gut you." He made sure the man could see his sword out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm a dead man either way for crossing the master," he muttered but turned decisively to the left, leading Edward along a winding path.

Faint noises drifted up from below, growing louder as they neared another stairwell. Edward paused for a moment, smiling when he heard Emmett's voice.

"There's a fire, I tell you," his cousin yelled. "I saw smoke billowing from an upstairs window. The building must be evacuated immediately."

The brothel madam argued there was no fire, but Emmett's lies took effect with panicked shouts echoing up the stairs. The hallway began to fill with scantily clad young women and half-dressed men, swearing and shoving one another as they ran for the stairs. Tucking his sword against his side so as not to draw attention, Edward kept a firm grip on his guide and urged him forward.

Rounding a corner, they came to a room guarded by a hulking brute.

"He's got a weapon!" His guide shouted, and Edward struck him in the head with the pistol, knocking him to the ground. The guard pulled a knife, and Edward tossed the pistol aside—the darned thing was not accurate enough to trust over any distance, and he was wary of the bullet piercing the wall and hitting Bella . . . if she was inside. He didn't have time for this, but with no other choice, he raised his sword, intent on dispensing the guard. The brute tossed his knife from hand to hand, like he knew what he was doing with it. Just when he raised it to throw, an attack against which Edward wasn't trained to defend himself, Jasper sneaked up from behind and felled the thug with a brutal blow.

"About time." Edward crossed to the door only to find it locked. A quick search of the unconscious guard's body produced a bunch of keys, and with shaking fingers, he tried them one by one until the lock turned. Steeling himself for what he would find, Edward raised his sword. Then with Jasper at his back, he opened the door and stepped inside. When his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he froze at the sight before him—a huddle of terrified girls whimpering with fear.

"Good Lord," Jasper said from the doorway. "They're just children . . . _infants_."

A few of the babes began to cry, and Edward crouched down. "Don't be afraid," he said, keeping his tone gentle. "We're not going to hurt you."

One of the older girls, a pretty lass with a mass of strawberry blond curls, inched forward.

"Are ye Lord Masen?"

"How do you know my name? Was a lady here, one with lovely red hair?"

"Yes. She told us ye'd be comin' and that she'd take us wiv 'er when ye rescued 'er. Will ye do that, sir? Will ye 'elp us?"

"Of course, we will." Edward tried to keep his tone nonthreatening despite the rage roiling within him.

"She gave us these." The girl opened her hand to reveal a single pearl, the other girls showing him more of the Same. "Do ye want them back?"

"No, you keep them. Do you know where she is now? The pretty lady?"

"The bad man came and took 'er. He said it was time for 'er to see the doctor. Ye need to go rescue 'er, sir, 'cos 'e's not a nice doctor."

Edward's stomach lurched, and he turned to Jasper. "Did you see anything?"

Jasper shook his head, and Edward's heart rose to lodge in his throat.

"The doctor looked at us in a room with a big bed," another girl piped up. "It 'ad a brown door with a little funny-looking tree in a pot in the hallway outside."

"I saw that on my way." Jasper ran for the door, almost colliding with Emmett in the hallway.

"Have you found her?" he asked.

"Not yet, but we think we know where she is. You stay and guard the girls," Edward shouted and ran after Jasper, dodging and weaving between panicked patrons of the hell-house, escaping the imaginary fire. Twice along the way, he spotted loose pearls gleaming against the faded carpet, but he didn't stop until he reached the room which was just as the observant young girl had described. Jasper held back, and Edward burst through the door first to be confronted with a scene out of a nightmare.

Bella was lying on the bed wearing only a thin shift, her arms tied to the bedhead above her. A man leaned over her, _touching her—_ the so-called physician, Edward assumed—while both Hunter and Edgeley held her bare legs. Not hesitating, Edward barrelled straight into the doctor, sending him crashing against the far wall.

"Edward! Look out!" Bella cried, and he spun around to see Hunter lunge towards him, a sword in his hand. Raising his own sword, Edward parried the older man's blow just as Jasper knocked Edgeley to the floor. While his friend beat the weasel senseless—a task Edward would have relished if his hands weren't full—he focused on Edgeley's mentor, determined to end Hunter once and for all.

"I should have guessed you were behind this." Edward cursed the man responsible for almost ending Sir Charles's life. "Your protégé lacks the courage to attempt something so audacious."

"True." Hunter sneered as the two men slowly circled one another. "But he has other talents. It's a pity you didn't arrive a little later, as you could have watched the show."

Edward saw red and lunged wildly, his opponent taking advantage of his lapse in concentration. With a sudden parry, Hunter's blade cut close to Edward's side, slicing through his jacket and missing his skin by a hairsbreadth.

"You will have to do better than that, my boy," the disgraced baron taunted, his next swipe coming close to nicking Edward's cheek.

Bella cried out, but he dared not spare her more than a quick glance. Relieved to see that Jasper had subdued Edgeley and was standing guard over the bed, he returned his focus to Hunter. Parrying a series of rapid-fire blows, Edward recouped. The baron was strong and possessed of greater experience, but Edward had youth on his side. He just needed to keep his fury in check.

As they circled one another, he probed, trying to discover Hunter's weaknesses. The man was skilled, there was no denying, but he was also arrogant.

"My men will be here soon," Hunter boasted. "And then you and your friend will be outnumbered. But don't worry, I plan to let you live long enough to see me enjoy the delights your lovely lady has to offer . . . if you haven't already partaken? Edgeley swears you have behaved in a manner unbecoming of a gentleman. Did you have fun?"

Edward refused to be provoked. The bastard was in for a rude awakening, as his men were all running for their lives from an imaginary fire. Sweat broke out on both men's brows. But while Hunter wasted his breath, taunting Edward with his plans for Bella, Edward focused on warding off his blows and getting in a few of his own.

Licentious living had taken its toll on Hunter and, little by little, Edward gained the upper hand. His strikes came closer to their mark while the older man's began to go wide. After Edward delivered a series of punishing blows, his opponent left himself open, and Edward took instant advantage. A red line appeared on the baron's white breeches where Edward's sword had drawn blood, but he wasted no time congratulating himself. Striking again and again, he punished the coward, relishing the opportunity to make Hunter suffer for all the pain and misery he had caused. He was going to take his time and make the bastard pay, but Bella's whimpers reached him between the sounds of steel clashing against steel.

A change in priorities saw Edward press forward. His next two strokes sliced deeply—one the length of Hunter's arm, the other his side. Storing away the sound of Hunter's agonised cry to savour at a later date, Edward knew he would regret the man's swift demise. But Bella needed him.

No longer able to maintain his guard, Hunter lowered his weapon. Edward didn't hesitate. Thrusting his sword deep into the man's chest, he gave it a twist before pulling it free. The baron dropped to his knees, a look of surprise on his face. Not bothering to watch him fall, Edward crossed to the bed where Bella was sitting huddled in a ball, nursing the sore wrists Jasper had untied. Lifting her into his arms, he held her close.

"Oh, Edward." She buried her face against his neck. "Thank God you are all right."

"Thank God _I'm_ all right?" Sitting on the edge of the bed, he met her tear-filled gaze.

"I was so afraid you'd be hurt." She glanced warily towards where Jasper was checking Hunter for a pulse, a quick shake of his head confirming the man was dead. Jasper then set about tying up both the unconscious doctor and severely beaten Edgeley with sheeting torn from the curtain, before dumping their bodies in the corridor.

"I'm fine," Edward said, directing Bella's gaze back to his face. "Hunter won't bother you again, or Edgeley, for that matter."

Bella flinched, and he wanted to ask what they'd done to her, if she was hurt anywhere other than her bruised wrists and glowing red cheek. But the questions were too personal to be posed with another man present.

"Jasper?" Edward gestured with his head, and his friend dragged Hunter's body into the hall.

"I'll go and see if your father has arrived with the carriage," he said from the doorway while keeping his eyes averted from Bella's barely clothed form.

Edward nodded and turned his attention back to Bella. She was trembling, but the blanket on the bed was stained with God knew what. After shrugging out of his now torn coat, he wrapped it around her, covering her legs as best he could.

"It's all right, sweetheart. You're safe now."

"I know . . . and thank you." She wiped away the tears that ran down her face. "I was certain you would come for me, but I didn't think it would be in time. They were too strong for me to fight, and that horrible doctor . . ." She ducked her head against his chest.

"Did they . . ." Edward took a deep breath. "Did they hurt you?"

"They were going to. Lord Hunter threatened awful things, and that horrible Lord Edgeley slapped my face. They said they were looking forward to making me scream. If Seth hadn't seen where I was taken, and if you hadn't gotten here when you did . . ." Her voice broke again, and Edward held her tightly while she sobbed against his shoulder.

His eyes stung with tears of outrage for what she had been put through and relief he had arrived in time to save her from any more brutality. Determined to let her cry for however long she needed, Edward rocked her in his arms. But Bella surprised him by sitting up after just a few minutes, her eyes wide with panic.

"What is it?" he asked as she clambered from his lap.

"There are girls being held prisoner— _little_ girls. We have to save them. Hunter said he had accomplices, and they might come and take them away."

"It's all right." Edward stood and clasped her shoulders. "Emmett is watching the children."

Bella slumped against him before asking in a shaky voice, "Would you help me don my clothes?"

"Of course," he said, holding her steady and doing what he could when her trembling limbs made the task difficult. He was almost finished buttoning up her coat when a knock on the door announced his father's arrival.

"You take care of Isabella," the duke said, assuring Edward he would deal with both the authorities and the press that had gotten wind of the abduction. "I have sent word to Sir Charles. I'm sure he and Penelope will be waiting impatiently for her return."

"But the girls," Bella said as Edward lifted her into his arms. "I told them I would come back for them."

"We'll check on them on our way," he promised, unwilling to deny her anything, though her insistence she was too heavy for him to carry fell on deaf ears.

"Indulge me," he said. "I shall have to put you down soon enough."

"Not if I can help it," she muttered, and he smiled at his betrothed's indomitable spirit.

 **~I~**

 **Phew . . . they got there just in time!**

 **I have to admit, six years after I first wrote this story, I have no idea why they all had swords! I do recall a male reader (there were quite a lot of men reading this back in the Twilight Fanfic heydey) pleading with me to include a sword fight. I was happy to oblige, but it's a little odd, since they weren't soldiers. I'm just going to pretend all gentlemen rode out with swords when there was the threat of danger. ;**

 **xx Elise**


	56. Secrets

**You guys are so wonderful and knowledgeable! That'sMzPeaches and Shaz shared their far superior knowledge on the sword-carrying customs of the times (soldiers and the aristocracy were free to do so, though it was _usually_ more for show. A Scotsman, like Jasper, was likely to be armed at all times, as they tended to still view the English with some suspicion). I'm glad my little sword fight wasn't too far-fetched, as I think we all agreed it was exciting to read...except for the blood-thirstier ones among us would have liked to see Hunter's death prolonged!**

 **I'm not sure if it's just me, but the following chapter always gets to me, so I'm issuing a tissue warning. They're mostly happy and relieved tears, so nothing too stressful.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Secrets**

Edward wasn't surprised when Bella insisted on seeing the girls settled at the charity home, a temporary measure while it was determined who could be safely returned to their families and who would need a permanent haven.

"You'll visit us again, my lady?" one of the older girls asked.

"I promise _._ " Bella drew her into a hug before embracing each child in turn.

"You can't stay with us?"

A curly-haired moppet clung to Bella's arm, and Edward's throat tightened. Kneeling beside them, he answered for her. "Lady Isabella needs to see a doctor, a _good_ doctor," he added when the girls cringed at his words. "But we'll both return to check on you in a few days' time."

"Sooner." Bella eyed him firmly.

"We'll see." Edward didn't have the heart to argue, though he had no intention of allowing her to overextend herself.

After running the gauntlet of newspapermen waiting in front of Cullen House, he had the carriage driven around to the rear of the mansion. Bella insisted she could walk, but when she tried to stand, her knees buckled.

"That does it." Edward lifted her in his arms. "I'm carrying you up to your room."

"But you've just been in a terrible fight."

"I am perfectly well." He silenced her with a look. "It's you I'm worried about."

"I'm all right . . . now," she whispered, clinging tightly to his neck.

A tearful reunion with her father ensued, followed by others with a contrite Alice and Esme, and a very relieved Penelope. Rosalie, who'd arrived with her husband earlier in the day, kept her distance, which was probably a good thing. But Angela hovered in the background, her swollen eyes revealing the fears she'd had for her mistress and friend. Once the tale had been told several times—Seth's ingenuity, Bella's bravery, and Jasper, Emmett, and Edward's derring-do remarked upon—Edward left her with her carers to confer with Jasper and his father.

"The doctor is singing like the proverbial canary." Jasper smiled with satisfaction.

"And I have assurances from the authorities they _will_ act upon his disclosures, despite the fact a number of Hunter's accomplices are gentlemen," Carlisle added. "The doctor disclosed the addresses where more girls are being held, some in much worse shape than the ones you encountered, I'm afraid."

Edward's shoulders slumped. It was a good thing the second home would soon be ready, but he wasn't sure where they would house the girls in the meantime.

"Don't worry." His father patted his back. "I've told the officer I shall take responsibility for their care. I'm sure Esme won't mind if we use the east wing until the new home is ready."

"Thank you," Edward said. "Bella will be relieved to know the girls are being looked after. I would have undertaken organising something myself—"

"But you have got your hands full with the wedding. Please give Isabella my best wishes for a speedy recovery from her ordeal."

"Mine, too," Jasper added.

"With pleasure," Edward said, though he wasn't sure when he would get the chance.

Holding Bella in his arms had been the silver lining on the thunderous events of the otherwise dreadful day. He didn't expect to see her again until morning, so he was overjoyed when Sir Charles summoned him to his daughter's room later that evening.

"Edward . . . I can't begin to thank you for saving my daughter today."

"It was my pleasure, sir." The two men shared a rueful smile at the memory of the first time Edward had uttered those words. "But it was a team effort."

"Yes, and I'll be thanking the others directly, as well as devising a suitable method of reward for young Seth. Though how I can ever thank him for the quick thinking that led to Bella's rescue . . ."

His soon-to-be father-in-law's voice broke, and Edward took a moment to reply, his own throat uncomfortably tight.

"Bella already has a soft spot for the boy, but he's earned my undying gratitude for his efforts today."

"I would be proud to count him as part of my family," Sir Charles said gruffly before surprising Edward by drawing him into an embrace. "Just as I am proud to call you son."

Edward returned the hug, his relationship with Bella's father having come a long way since their becoming acquainted at the palace. When he was certain he could speak without betraying himself, he decided to take what he hoped would be considered only minor advantage of the situation and asked permission to bid Bella good night.

"As to that . . ."

Edward suppressed a sigh, but before he could apologise for overstepping the mark, Sir Charles continued.

"Isabella is quite shaken, as you can imagine, and I'm worried her dreams won't be pleasant. I have asked Angela to stay with her for the night, but I believe it is your company that will bring her the most comfort."

"Sir?" Edward wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

"Go to her, son. She needs you. I trust you not to take advantage of the situation."

"But what of the servants, the household?"

"I shall deal with any repercussions, though I don't imagine anyone begrudging the two of you one another's company after the events of the day. Angela will sleep on a cot in the dressing room, and I shall be in to check on Bella periodically. If anyone asks, I shall say you spent the night in a chair by her bed, though I wouldn't advise it . . . hell on one's back, and it _is_ only a few days to the wedding. Just lie on top of the covers. Yes, that should do nicely."

Edward couldn't suppress a grin, but it faded when he entered Bella's bedroom.

Sitting up in the bed, she was wearing a white nightgown with ruffles at the collar and wrists. With her eyes huge in her pale face, Bella looked young, and fragile, reminding him of the girl he had made his mistress all those months earlier.

"Edward?" she asked when he hesitated to approach.

"You look exhausted. I should leave you to rest."

"But Papa said you can stay with me." Bella's lower lip trembled, and he stifled a groan.

"Only if you want me to."

"Of course I want you to . . . unless, after today, you'd rather not. I promised I would be careful . . ."

Crossing the room in three strides, he gathered her into his arms. "My God, Bella. Please, don't think for one minute you did anything wrong. You were brave and resourceful, and I can't begin to tell you how proud I am."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I was so afraid, Edward. Afraid of what they were going to do to me, but mostly afraid I would never see you again."

His vision blurred, and he pulled her close. "I was terrified I wouldn't find you in time . . . or at all."

Bella began to sob in earnest, and Edward struggled to maintain a semblance of control.

"I'm sorry to be such a watering pot," she said when she had finished weeping and reached for a handkerchief.

Not yet able to speak, he shrugged and wiped his own eyes with the back of his hand.

"I keep thinking about what they were going to do to those little girls," Bella continued. "What they were going to do to me _._ Lord Hunter was without mercy, Edward, and I am _not_ sorry you killed him. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Not in my book."

"Speaking of which, I apologise for being so easily duped at the bookstore," she said, her words tumbling over one another. "You warned me to be careful, especially when news broke of my involvement with the charity. But Veronica was so convincing, and with Lord Hunter supposedly fled abroad, I thought you were being overprotective. I was shocked to discover Lord Edgeley's involvement, as we'd seen neither hide nor hair of him since you banished him from Worthington. If I had known he was lurking, I would have been much more wary."

Groaning, Edward hung his head.

"Edward?" Bella frowned. "Lord Edgeley said some things that made no sense. It sounded like he was blackmailing you, and when you put a stop to it, he and Lord Hunter decided to kidnap me instead. But that can't have been the case . . ." Her words faltered, but she continued when Edward reluctantly met her gaze. "You wouldn't have kept something so important from me."

"I was trying to protect you," he whispered hoarsely.

"From what?"

"Worry, distress . . ."

"By keeping me in the dark?" She pulled out of his embrace. "You don't think being kidnapped and assaulted was distressing?"

"I should have told you what was going on—"

"Yes, you should have."

The colour had returned to Bella's face, and her eyes flashed. She had never looked more beautiful, but Edward kept the observation to himself. She was furious with him, and she had every right to be. While the sentiment wasn't in keeping with society's dictates regarding the treatment of women, he could neither fault her logic nor deny her experience.

"I mean it," she said when he didn't respond. "If there is one thing I have learned, it's there is nothing blissful about being kept in ignorance. I am not a child, Edward. I'm to be your wife _._ If our marriage is to be successful, you need to start treating me like your helpmate, not some frail, feeble-minded creature who must be cosseted and shielded from the truth. I won't stand for it in the future."

"Nor should you," he said, and she blinked.

"You're agreeing with me?"

"Yes." Edward had learned his lesson the hard way. "I'm sorry you were put at risk, _again_ , because you weren't fully informed."

"I suppose I can understand why you didn't say anything . . ." Bella offered hesitantly, reinforcing Edward's belief that she was too forgiving for her own good.

"But there is no denying my good intentions nearly paved a path to hell for us both."

She whimpered, and he could stand the distance between them no longer. Opening his arms, he breathed a sigh of relief when she moved into his embrace.

"Promise me, Edward. No more secrets."

"I promise." He held her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "No more secrets."

 **~I~**

 **Not a long chapter, but I'll be back tomorrow. I might even try to get another Edward outtake up...though we've left that part of the story well behind.**

 **xx Elise**


	57. Daunting

**Just a short chapter, but there are only ten left to this, admittedly, epic (though some might say drawn out!) tale, so I'll leave it to just one chapter today. I'm not sure what I'll do with myself when I don't have a daily chapter to post anymore. I'll miss you all!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Daunting**

Bella awoke with a start.

"It's all right. I've got you," Edward whispered, not for the first time, and she wondered if he had slept at all.

Spending the night after her abduction wrapped in his arms—albeit dressed in her most modest nightgown and with the bedding between them—almost made up for the horrors of the day before, horrors that had crept into her dreams.

"What time is it?" she asked, snuggling into his embrace.

"Morning." He kissed her forehead.

"Did you get any rest?"

"I'll be fine." He shrugged. "After yesterday, watching over you was good for my soul."

Bella nodded in understanding. It had been good for hers also. "Thank you for staying. I don't think I'd have slept a wink without you."

"It was my pleasure." He smiled. "Although I have to admit I'm glad the wedding is not many days hence, as my resolve has been sorely tested." His smile faded, replaced by a look of uncertainty. "That's if you think you'll still want to . . . I mean, after what happened, you might prefer to wait . . . I don't want you to think I'm assuming anything . . ."

" _Shh_ . . ." She cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Nothing those horrid men did has anything to do with what we will share as husband and wife."

Edward's shoulders sagged, and she chuckled, relieved that he didn't view her differently after their shared ordeal. Banishing thoughts of the horrors that might have been, or the pleasures yet to come, she focused on the present.

"For now, I think you'd better remove yourself to the chair. Papa has been very obliging, but I would rather we didn't shock the rest of the household."

"Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about." Edward brushed a lock of hair from her face before removing himself to the more respectable location beside her bed. "After yesterday, the household—I imagine the entire city—would begrudge you little."

His words proved prophetic, the newspapers making a terrible fuss over her abduction, with bold headlines and numerous pages devoted to the story. Lord Hunter's plan to sell the King's beloved cousin, and the young girls he had bought or stolen from the streets of London, on the slave markets of Eastern Europe made for titillating reading. The populace was horrified to learn such practices were occurring under the very noses of the authorities. Calls for increased protection for girls and young women resounded loudly across London, from the streets to the throne room. However, it was the lords, who held power over the parliament and too often had vested interests and took pleasure in the trade of young lives, who would need to be swayed.

With all the publicity the crime received, the city constabulary applied themselves diligently to the matter. The perpetrators were quickly detained—Veronica, the fair-haired woman, amongst them. They were quick to give up their contacts and accomplices in exchange for leniency in sentencing—deportation rather than the death sentence.

"Do you think we have anything to fear from Lord Edgeley?" Bella asked while she and Edward ate their breakfast off matching silver trays in her room.

"Not at all." He reached to squeeze her hand "The cur was in no fit state to divulge anything after his encounter with Jasper, and considering what the King has in store for him . . ."

Bella shuddered, deciding she'd rather not know the details.

She briefly considered taking up the doctor's suggestion of a day spent recovering in bed. But some of the more prurient-minded of society's members were speculating about the timing of her rescue, intimating it might not have occurred soon enough to protect her virtue. They expected her to postpone the wedding permanently, and disappear from public life altogether, as surely a young lady of refined breeding and tender sensibilities would not recover from such an ordeal.

Refusing to be intimidated, Bella chose to face the day head-on, an audience with her future cousins-in-law dauntingly high on the list of her priorities.

~I~

"Lady Isabella."

Rosalie's greeting was accompanied by a respectful curtsy, but the expression on her face led Bella to believe the viscountess was dreading the encounter even more than she was. Dressed impeccably to boost her confidence, and with Edward by her side, Bella matched the other woman's actions.

"Lady McCarty," she said, her tone respectful but cool. "Lord McCarty."

"Please, call me Emmett," he said, bowing low over her hand. "I trust you are well after your ordeal?"

Bella assured him that she was, thanking him for the part he had played in her rescue.

Emmett nodded and then directed a look at Rosalie. The beautiful, fair haired lady raised her chin and faced Bella squarely.

"I apologise for my treatment of you at Worthington, Lady Isabella. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Sighing inwardly at Rosalie's stony expression and emotionless delivery, Bella considered her options. The tables had been well and truly turned, and she now held the undisputed position of power. With a few well-chosen phrases, it was not inconceivable she could ruin Rosalie's standing in society, something of great importance to the other woman. Or she could take a different approach.

"May I speak with Lady McCarty privately?"

Bella's request was met with mutually concerned expressions on Edward's and Emmett's faces, but they did not deny her. She waited until she was alone with Rosalie to respond to her apology . . . such as it was. But before she could address the coolly spoken phrases, Rosalie blurted out a truer reflection of her feelings.

"I realise I shouldn't have put you at risk when I thought you were nothing more than a maid, as I acknowledge that was unacceptable behaviour for one of my station."

Bella's back stiffened. The thought crossed her mind she should insist Rosalie volunteer at the charitable home in hopes of challenging her opinion of her so-called superiority, but she dismissed the idea as soon as it formed. It would be unfair to inflict Rosalie's snobbery on girls who had already suffered so much.

"But if you think I'm going to grovel for your forgiveness," Rosalie continued in a rush, "after being banished to the godforsaken bogs of Ireland, only to be called back to attend _your_ wedding, of all things, and to _Masen._ Not to mention the revelation you are not only related to royalty but being touted as a heroine, when we both know if the truth of your behaviour at Worthington were to be revealed, you would be seen in a far different light, ruining your reputation—"

"Just as the truth of your behaviour towards me during that time would surely have a detrimental effect on yours." Bella had heard enough and thought to remind the other woman that the ruination exposure would bring would be far-reaching.

The colour that had risen to Rosalie's cheeks leeched away, and she stood frozen with what Bella recognised as fear in her eyes. Not for the first time, Bella pitied her.

Bella had everything Rosalie wanted—position, status, and loftier connections than being a _mere_ viscount's wife. Yet she would have traded them all if it were the only way to be with the man she loved. Rosalie, on the other hand, had the affection of a good man—Emmett's feelings for his wife plain to see—but she spurned it, preferring to hold fast to her contempt. With nothing to lose or greatly fear, as Bella doubted Rosalie would risk bringing any more of Carlisle's wrath upon her head by attempting to publicly discredit her, she spoke her mind.

"It saddens me to see you wasting your life on bitterness and jealousy when contentment is yours for the taking. There is nothing stopping you from experiencing a happy marriage to a man who clearly holds you in high esteem despite the fact you treat him very ill."

Bella waited for a backlash, but to her surprise, tears welled in Rosalie's eyes.

"I don't expect us to be friends," she continued when the other woman remained silent. "But we _are_ to be family, which is far more important to me than whatever titles come before our names. Edward cares for his cousin, and it is for that reason I would like to offer an olive branch, Rosalie." Bella risked using the lady's name, even though she'd not been granted permission. "A truce . . . if you are willing."

Rosalie surprised Bella by accepting her offer, albeit with stilted grace. There may have even been a slight thawing in her icy demeanour in the ensuing days, but Bella found it difficult to imagine Rosalie would ever completely drop the façade of propriety she had built around herself.

"It does seem unlikely," Edward said the night before their wedding. "But my cousin can be very persuasive if given half a chance."

Bella raised a brow. "Maybe we will trigger a revolt against the fashion for husbands and wives to treat each other with disdain."

"One never knows." He smiled indulgently.

It was probably a foolish dream, but stranger things had happened, Bella's story a prime example.

Real-life fairy tales were few and far between. Inspired by Bella's journey from a country miss of good family to terrified runaway and unlikely maid, her improbable tale had captured the imagination of her countrymen, in particular, those of the lower stations. Her surprising kinship with royalty, betrothal to one of the most eligible gentlemen in the land, and the revelation she was helping girls in need regardless of society frowning on her actions, had caused them to open their hearts to her.

The least she could do was show her gratitude by graciously enduring "the wedding of the decade," as Edward and her nuptials were being touted.

~I~

 **I've just realised the timing is perfect, as we're up to the wedding at the same time as we have a royal wedding occurring in real life. :)**

 **xx Elise**


	58. Vows

**Sorry for the delay. Real life dramas keep getting in the way of my posting schedule. How rude!**

 **xxx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Vows**

The midday sun shone bright and warm upon the cheering crowds that lined the roads as Bella and her father were driven in one of the King's carriages to her wedding. Waving through the windows, she attempted to settle her nerves, but shallow breaths were the only sort her beautiful gown would allow. A confection of golden satin and the finest hand-spun lace, it was a triumph of elegance, albeit far from restrained with its yards-long train. Its design was complemented perfectly by her mother's pearls and a tiara, drop earrings, and the bracelet Edward had given her to replace the one she'd lost in the abduction.

While eyebrows would probably be raised at her wearing the same jewels she'd worn to the King's ball, Bella's decision had nothing to do with a lack of choice. The Masen jewels were now hers to wear as she pleased, a stunning array of diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and rubies. But after the abduction, the pearls held special meaning to both her and Edward, as well as being a poignant reminder of her mother.

She felt her absence keenly, wishing she were alive to see her daughter wed and curious as to what words of encouragement or advice she may have had for her daughter on her wedding day. She hoped her mother would have been proud of the woman she had become and the plans she had for her future. She would have surely been astonished to see her little girl, with the perpetually skinned knees and dusting of freckles on her nose, now a woman grown and about to marry a man as handsome, dashing, and regal as the most charming of princes.

Bella could barely give credence to it herself.

Turning to face her father, who was looking distinguished in his military uniform, her lips curved in a wistful smile. She couldn't help comparing the grandeur and pageantry of this particular journey to the flight she had undertaken from Forkton almost five months earlier, hidden in the back of a ramshackle cart and believing her beloved Papa had been murdered. Her life had changed almost beyond imagining since that time, from tragedy to triumph along a decidedly tumultuous path.

Looking towards a future with Edward by her side, Bella acknowledged she was blessed. But before they could begin their life together, she first had to survive their nuptials. Forgetting the constricting nature of her gown, she attempted a deep breath and ended up gasping for air.

"Isabella? Are you unwell?" her father asked as the carriage came to a halt at the front of the palace.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she took shallow breaths and thought back to some of her favourite memories. The first time she had seen Edward, seated proudly upon his horse. Pouring tea together. Debating French poetry in the library. Sharing dinner at the inn in Worthey. She pictured his smile, his deep blue eyes, his fringe sweeping across his forehead in that way she adored—and regained control.

"Bella?" her father prompted, and she gave him a determined smile.

"I'm fine, Papa," she said, although her confidence faltered again when they alighted from the carriage and the crowd erupted into cheers. Taking a moment to wave in appreciation for their welcome, Bella's conscience twinged as she wondered what they would think of her if they knew the whole story.

Alice, the bridesmaids, and page boys awaited them inside the Abbey, looking resplendent in their matching gold-coloured gowns with flower posies for the young ladies and velvet jackets with cream breeches for the boys. Vibrating with excitement, Alice made sure Bella's skirt, with its train and cascading veil were all carefully arranged. Once they were all in position, her father gave the signal, and the organ music that would accompany their procession filled the air.

"Ready?" He linked their arms, his eyes filled with pride.

Bella nodded, and together they made their way along the carpeted north aisle. Smiling nervously, she acknowledged the admiring looks of the guests who filled the nave. When they had journeyed far enough to see past the choir, she caught a glimpse of Edward standing before the High Altar, Jasper and Emmett at his side. She breathed a sigh. The wait was finally over.

When they reached the north transept, her friends from Forkton came into view, and Bella's smile widened. Unable to resist, she gave a tiny wave.

Tears pricked her eyes at the sight of Mr and Mrs Waters dressed in the finery her father, with Esme and Penelope's assistance, had provided for his employees-cum-lifelong-friends. He'd not wanted them to feel out of place at the ceremony and wedding breakfast to which he and Bella had insisted they be invited. They were family, after all, and beamed at Bella and her father with justifiable pride.

She smiled widest for Jacob and Leah. The friends who'd helped her make her escape from Forkton, travelling with her halfway across the country to Worthington Hall, made a handsome couple in their fashionable attire, although she could tell they were overawed by the grandiose surroundings. They'd been understandably intimidated by Edward when she'd introduced them upon their arrival in the city, but he had soon put them at ease, thanking them for aiding her in her escape from Lord Hunter. A slight huff of laughter escaped Bella's lips when she thought of the plans Edward and Jacob had for creating a carriage building business together utilising Jacob's designs and craftsmanship and Edward's funding and contacts. She would be seeing more of the couple in the future, the thought a happy one.

Passing Edward's family, seated alongside King William, Queen Adelaide, the members of her newly extended _royal_ family, and the rows of various visiting royals and dignitaries, Bella's stomach did a little flip. Confronted by a sea of elegant attire, splendid jewellery, dashing uniforms, medallions, and crowns, the enormity of the situation threatened to overwhelm her. But then she looked up to see Edward watching her approach. Her breath hitched at the sight of him standing tall and regal-looking in his wedding finery. His dark, curling locks had been ruthlessly constrained, a fleeting image of the disarray her fingers would cause when she ran them through his hair later that evening causing a blush to stain her cheeks. Ducking her head, she eyed him through her lashes, and Edward's eyes darkened. The passion that simmered between them, even in this holy location and before such a formidable audience, was undeniable. Only a part of what drew them together, of much greater importance was the love that bound them as irrevocably as the vows they were about to declare.

Regardless of the challenges she faced, a quiet life lived in the shadows compared to one spent with Edward, under any circumstances, would have been a travesty.

After what felt like the longest walk of her life, Bella came to stand beside the man she was to marry. She barely noticed when her father squeezed her hand and went to take his place on the pew beside a radiant Penelope. Or when Alice and the rest of her attendants left her to find their seats. Bella's attention was upon Edward.

Ignoring the waiting archbishop, he leaned close and whispered next to her ear. "You look so beautiful, you take my breath away. I love you."

His words weren't a part of the ceremony, steeped in centuries of tradition and designed to fulfil their spiritual and legal obligations. But they were spoken from his heart and echoed the content of Bella's.

Turning to face the archbishop, they listened while he read about love from 1 Corinthians 13 before speaking of the importance of marriage for creating a new family and the raising of children. When he charged them to take seriously the solemnity of the vows they were about to speak, Bella shared a look with Edward. They'd come a long way since the day she had challenged him about the hypocrisy of his intention to vow in church, before God and man, to marry one woman while he loved another. Her heart swelled, as with complete sincerity he promised to cherish and remain faithful to her—as she did to him—until death they did part.

Rings were exchanged, communion shared, and the registry signed. Then the archbishop declared they were man and wife, introducing them to their waiting families as the Marquis and Marchioness of Masen.

 **~I~**

 **Yay! They're married! Just a short chapter, so I'll post the next one soon. :)  
**

 **xxx Elise**


	59. Gift

**Happy Royal Wedding Day! Isn't the church grand?**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Gift**

"Not long now, my love," Edward whispered as he escorted Bella to their carriage after they made their escape from the wedding celebrations.

Bella's belly tightened at the thought of their _finally_ being alone without chaperones to heed or the dictates of conscience to assuage.

"I can barely wait," she admitted, not bothering to try and hide the direction of her thoughts.

Edward's jaw tightened. "You are not too tired after such a rigorous day?"

"Not in the least," she said before laughing aloud at his exaggerated sigh of relief.

After bidding their families farewell, Edward helped Bella into the carriage that would take them to their mystery destination. Her luggage had been transported earlier in the day, and Angela would be waiting to assist her out of her beautiful gown upon their arrival. But she was otherwise in the dark as to Edward's plans for where they would spend their honeymoon. Their intention to journey to France and visit her mother's birthplace had to be postponed until the following year when the antislavery vote was delayed. Edward's presence would be needed when Parliament resumed for the Little Season, not allowing enough time for an extended European tour.

Bella didn't mind, as long as they were together and could be alone. Well, as alone as two people can be when they require a lady's maid, valet, butler, housekeeper, cook, sundry footmen, maids, kitchen hands, laundress, and gardener to take care of them and their home, not to mention carriage drivers and stable boys to attend to the horses.

"Something amuses you?" Edward drew her closer despite there being barely a hairsbreadth between them.

Bella shared her thoughts, and he raised a brow.

"Would you prefer I dismiss them all and we fend for ourselves? It's been a while since you have had practice pouring hot beverages."

"That's true," she said with mock seriousness. "It might be wise if you took responsibility for that task. But I _know_ you enjoy my pastries, and I'm quite skilled at polishing furniture and wiping dishes. If you can't think of anything better for us to do with our time, I _could_ take on the household chores and save you the expense of employing all those staff members. I do hate to be idle."

"Minx!" Edward lifted her onto his lap. "You know very well what I have planned for our time together, young lady, every waking moment. So, you can put ideas of dismissing the staff out of your head."

Bella giggled and twisted in his lap to face him.

"Every waking moment?" She leaned in to brush her lips over his in a featherlight kiss. "You intend allowing me no rest?"

"What? No!" Edward sat back, his eyes widening. "It was a jest. I would never take advantage of you in such a manner."

"Of course not," she said uncertainly. She'd been about to admit that an entire day spent with him in bed sounded extraordinarily appealing.

"When I think of how I treated you at Worthington . . ." His gaze skittered away. "Making you my mistress, requiring things of you no gentleman should expect of a lady. I'm no better than Hunter or Edgeley."

"Stop." She cupped his cheek, waiting until he looked back to her face. "You are nothing like them . . . _nothing_."

The memories of her abduction were fresh in their minds, but Bella was determined they wouldn't ruin this special time. Edward nodded, but his eyes were still clouded, and her own insecurities came to the fore.

"Of course, a part of me wishes that I were coming to you as a virgin on our wedding night."

"Bella, please." He lifted the hand she dropped and kissed her fingers. "When you allowed me to make love to you at Worthington, you gave me the most precious gift I have ever received, until today when you granted me the promise of a lifetime at your side."

"No regrets?"

"No, well, none on _your_ part. I shall just have to live with what I have done and be eternally grateful I have not received the punishment due my actions."

Bella opened her mouth to argue that he had done nothing worthy of punishment, but he silenced her with a kiss. While her desire to pull away and settle this matter once and for all was strong, it was no match for the passion his caresses aroused. When he deepened the kiss, she opened her mouth, welcoming the soft strokes of his tongue.

"You taste amazing." The words he murmured against her lips echoed her thoughts, and she wriggled in his lap, trying to get closer. Even through all the layers of her gown, the evidence of his desire pressed against her hip.

"What is it?" he asked when she chuckled.

"I'm just relieved to know that's not a pistol."

" _Definitely_ not a pistol, but likely to misfire if you don't cease your squirming."

"You mean like this?"

He groaned, and she did it again, only ceasing her teasing when the carriage came to a halt.

"We're here already?" She lifted the curtain and glanced out the window.

"We are, indeed."

Edward smiled his half smile, a sensual quirk of his lips that did delightful things to the secret areas of her body no matter how many times she witnessed it. Her curiosity temporarily overwhelming her desire, Bella leaned in to give him a quick kiss before moving to lift herself from his lap.

"Hold still," he cautioned, triggering a wave of _déjà_ _vu_.

She raised a brow. "Darling, I don't think waiting a few moments is going to relieve your condition this time."

"Neither do I, but since I have no intention of consummating our nuptials in the back of this carriage, I shall have to suffer for a while longer."

Images of the two of them becoming one flesh flooded Bella's thoughts, and she swayed towards him. "Not too much longer, I hope."

Edward shuddered, then kissed her again, hungrily and open-mouthed. Breaking away, he took a deep breath.

"Not here," he said with a decisive shake of his head. "I'm eager to show you your wedding present and for us to retire to a more conducive location to deal with my condition."

" _Our_ condition." She smiled before looking to the window, unable to see what was beyond through the filmy covering. "My wedding present? But you have already given me so much."

"Consider this the fulfilment of an earlier promise."

After assisting her from the carriage, Edward made sure to stand close enough to her voluminous skirt, so his aroused state was not obvious for all to see. There was nothing to be done to hide his flushed cheeks and swollen lips, nor Bella's, for that matter. But the light was dim, it was their wedding night, and their witnesses would just have to make allowances. Turning to look upon their destination, she saw an elegant three-storey home set back from the road. Not as overwhelming as Cullen House, she thought its cream walls, marble portico, and the rose gardens illuminated by both lamp and gentle moonlight most appealing.

"Whose place is this?"

"Yours." Edward's smile lit up his face.

"Mine?" Bella looked up at him before looking back at the mansion.

"I promised you a home of your own, and this is it. Well, one of them, as I also plan to give you a country home with acreage that isn't part of the official estate."

Her mouth opened and closed several times before speech was possible. "But that isn't necessary now that I'm your wife. That was only for if I agreed to be your . . ." Bella's words trailed away as she became aware of their audience: two straight lines of staff standing neatly at attention to each side of the front entrance of the mansion. Not as concerned about their witnesses as she was, Edward drew her into his embrace.

"It is necessary, as I have no intention of leaving you vulnerable ever again. Your mother's jewels have given you a degree of financial independence, but I suspect you will want to use that towards your charitable pursuits. I promised to both protect and provide for you, and that is exactly what I intend doing. Of course, this home is in a more salubrious location than the one I had originally planned on purchasing—not far from Cullen House or the palace. It is _yours_ ," he said with emphasis, "and cannot be taken from you regardless of what happens to me in future."

"But nothing must happen to you." Bella grasped the lapels of his coat. "I couldn't bear to be without you."

"Nor I you." He leaned down to kiss her softly. "Don't worry. I have no intention of going anywhere, not until we're both so far into our dotage we're happy to take our final journey together. At which point, you may leave this and however many other properties I give you to our daughters and granddaughters. Although I imagine we shall want to secure their financial independence while they are young enough to appreciate the gesture."

"And our second and third sons?" Bella asked, enjoying the direction of his thoughts. "Shall they be taken care of so generously?"

"That goes without saying," Edward said with mock affront before turning to guide her towards the staff waiting patiently for an introduction. To her delight, some were known to her already.

The butler and housekeeper, a Mr Campbell and Mrs Jones, reminded her a great deal of Mr Henson and Mrs Cope at Worthington. Edward's valet, Mr Jennings, whilst reserved, seemed pleased to make her official acquaintance. Bella had shared numerous meals and more than one conversation with him during her time working as a servant at Worthington Hall, not to mention hiding under the blankets while he had assisted Edward to dress the morning after she had spent the night in his bed, or more accurately, on the floor by the fire. There was no doubting he knew the true nature of her previous relationship with Edward, but his loyalty to his master was, thankfully, without question.

Angela welcomed Bella to her new home with a wide smile, while Ben, now officially Angela's betrothed, had driven the carriage from Cullen House and was busy tending to the horses. But the biggest surprise of all was Edward's and her new cook.

"Chef Louis?" Bella stared at her childhood friend and kitchen collaborator in confusion. "What are you doing here? Papa will be lost without you."

"Now don't be worrying about your father, dear girl. He's planning on spending the rest of the season in town to be near his lovely Lady Watson. And since she has an excellent chef—not as good as me, of course, but quite adequate for an Englishman—he was happy to let me come and cook for you and your new husband. A familiar face, as it were."

Inwardly delighted by this turn of events, Bella couldn't help but grin. She'd have loved to spend time with the French chef in the kitchen, but a marchioness did not waste her afternoons baking delicacies. Shaking off the vaguely depressing thought, she focused on the remaining introductions. Once they had been made, Edward insisted on carrying her over the threshold into their new home. Bella felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment, but the expressions on the faces of their household staff were devoid of censure. After putting her back on her feet, Edward declined supper or a nightcap on both their behalves and escorted her up the wide stairway to their suites on the first floor.

"I would have carried you the entire way, but risking my back to appear gallant seemed unwise."

"Most unwise," Bella agreed, as he showed her through to her suite of rooms.

"I have had both our bedrooms prepared," he added, and her step faltered. They'd slept in each other's arms when they were at Worthington, but sharing a bed wasn't fashionable—or acceptable _—_ for married couples of their station.

"Yes, of course," she murmured, reminding herself it was just one of the many adjustments she would need to make in her role of wife instead of mistress. "Would you like me to visit you tonight, or will you come to me?"

"I thought we could spend our first night in the master suite. Then we can alternate until we decide which location we prefer, unless you'd prefer to sleep alone?"

"I slept perfectly well with you beside me at Worthington."

"When I let you sleep," he muttered, glancing away. "You have no need to fear my importuning you in such a manner now that we're wed. Keeping you up half the night and expecting you to . . ." He shook his head. "I promise that once we've consummated our marriage, I will allow you your rest."

Bella blinked. "Oh, that's . . . good _._ "

"Well, I shall leave you to prepare," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Don't take too long."

"I won't." She smiled, her anxiety easing at the heated look in his eyes. As if once would be enough for either of them. Releasing her with obvious reluctance, he drew a ragged breath before departing for the adjoining master suite, closing the door behind him.

Angela entered from the hallway, and the two women exchanged smiles before Bella turned to give her access to the more than one hundred satin-covered buttons that ran down the back of her gown.

"Oh, my lady, I'm so 'appy for ye," Angela said. "To think we never thought this day would come. Now let's get ye ready, as ye don't want to keep yer new 'usband waiting."

"No, I certainly don't," Bella murmured, a slight frown marring her brow as she pondered his words. She'd thought their discussion in the carriage the night of their betrothal had put Edward's concerns to rest, but she had a niggling fear he still harboured the belief a wife required different treatment than a mistress. Coming out and telling him she was perfectly happy with the way things had been between them at Worthington was one option, though she wasn't sure he would believe her. Hopefully _showing_ him would do the trick, as Bella doubted she could hide how she felt and had no intention of trying.

 **~I~**

 **So...anyone who is cross with me for hinting that Edward might _still_ have some issues to resolve in regard to his perception of his past relationship with Bella, keep in mind that my editors insisted I add some tension to what was, otherwise, an outrageously extended epilogue! At least you can rest assured we're in the home stretch, and their method of resolving their 'issues' will be quite fun...and schmexy. ;) **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Edward's wedding present to Bella. I'm off to watch some more of the Royal wedding. What do you guys think of the dress?**

 **xx Elise**


	60. Fulfilment

**Sorry for disappearing. I've always wanted to experience life in the 1800s, but spending weeks battling a scabies infestation is not what I had in mind! Seriously, this scourge is absolutely horrid and almost impossible to get rid of, as the silly doctors won't prescribe the medication needed to kill the evil critters even though they've developed resistance to the ineffective cream they insist we use. I had to pretend to be a horse owner and buy the stronger stuff from an animal feed supplier! It was way cheaper than if I'd bought it at a pharmacy, so that was something. What wasn't amusing was my darling hubby murmuring 'Liar, liar, pants on fire' in my ear after I'd spun my ridiculous tale of needing to 'de-worm' my stable of ponies.**

 **Now, onto something far more pleasant . . .**

 **xx Elise**

 **PS - thanks for sharing your thoughts and opinions on the Royal wedding. The consensus was Meghan's dress was elegant, classic, and suited her personality perfectly. :)**

 **~I~**

 **Fulfilment**

The blood pounded so loudly in Edward's ears he worried he wouldn't hear if Bella chose to knock before entering.

Should he open the door, or would that appear gauche?

A soft laugh huffed between his lips. He couldn't have been more eager if he were a lad in short breeches awaiting the arrival of Christmas. He was just so glad she was finally his, to have and to hold.

The words of their wedding vows played through his mind, but far from picturing the solemnity of the occasion, or even his beautiful bride in her wedding finery, all he could think about was that he would soon have Bella in his arms. She regretted she wasn't a virgin, just as he regretted taking advantage of her innocence, but he couldn't deny there were compensations to both. If he hadn't made her his before the wedding, she would probably have been terrified of their imminent coupling, while his expectations would have been greatly reduced. Considering what lay ahead for them both, he smiled . . . until another thought caused it to fade.

It had been three months since they'd last made love, and having kept his promise to _wait_ until they could be together, he was worried he might not last very long. In the past, it wouldn't have mattered. He'd have had their second bout of lovemaking to make up for his lack, or the third. Pacing the floor of his room, Edward considered his options. He would have to make sure to bring Bella pleasure _before_ he joined their bodies, just in case. That way, their first time as husband and wife should be satisfying for them both even if the event was short-lived.

Spotting a movement out of the corner of his eye, he spun to see the door to his suite swing open. Bella stepped forward, a vision so enchanting he swayed a little before collecting himself and striding across the room. Taking her hand in his, he felt it tremble.

She was as nervous as he was.

Smiling his reassurance, he stepped back and allowed himself the pleasure of gazing upon her without haste . . . or guilt. Her hair hung in rich red curls around her shoulders, her creamy flesh covered by a sleeveless ivory gown with a delightfully low neckline. The soft fabric hinted at the treasures that lay beneath, and Edward gave silent thanks that they would soon be bared to him. If this was a typical wedding night, he would be wearing a nightshirt and removing his wife's gown wouldn't be an option. But they'd spent so many nights naked in each other's arms, the idea of depriving themselves the pleasure was ridiculous . . . or so he justified. He would take his cue from Bella.

"You look even more beautiful than you did in your wedding gown, if such a thing is possible."

A rose tint flushed her cheeks, and she looked up at him in a way that made him feel like an untried youth.

"So do you," she whispered and then ducked her head. "I mean, you look handsome, wonderfully handsome."

Her words made him smile. While not unaware women found him attractive, Bella's was the only opinion that counted. For their first night together as husband and wife, he had removed all but his trousers and shirt, the buttons of his shirt undone, not out of disrespect, but because he didn't expect to remain clothed for very long.

Gently clasping her hand, he drew Bella to the middle of the candlelit room before turning her to face him. She shivered when he ran his fingers down her cheek, his body responding with an answering shudder. A part of him wanted to haul her into his arms and repeat the promise he had once made to kiss every square inch of her body, but he was determined to show her he was a changed man. There was also something to be said for savouring the moment.

He lowered his head until their mouths were almost touching, his lips hovering near hers in aching anticipation. They had already kissed in the carriage, passionately and with little restraint. But this would be the kiss that led to the consummation of their marriage, and he wanted it to be perfect.

Placing her hands on his shoulders, Bella rose up on tiptoe to bring them closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest, and he sucked in a breath. Gripping her waist, he held her still for a moment until he'd regained his composure, such as it was. Her cheek rested against his, and he nuzzled it, their noses touching as they shared the Same breath.

"Can you feel it?" he asked. "How much I want you? How much I love you?"

" _Hmm_ . . ." Bella nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"My wife." He held her close, acutely aware of every dip and swell of her body.

"My husband."

Surprising him, it was Bella who initiated the first kiss. Her mouth brushed his softly, then she met his gaze as if checking his reaction. He smiled at the combination of temerity and boldness that was his sweet, sensual wife. Then he kissed her properly.

Properly.

It was a word with connotations of restrictions and propriety but one he associated with desire, since she had used it to describe the way she wanted to be kissed. Finally able to oblige her without having to battle his conscience, he hungrily tasted her lips. She opened her mouth to him, and his tongue delved into the velvet recesses. With her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly in a way that made his already swollen manhood tighten with pleasure, he cupped her bottom, pulling her higher and harder against him. After rubbing her belly against his erection, she surprised him again by pulling out of his embrace.

Edward's murmur of discontent fell silent when he discerned her purpose. After loosening the ties at the scooped neckline of her gown, she shrugged her shoulders, and it fell to the floor, pooling around her feet. She stood perfectly still while his gaze roamed from the top of her hair to the tips of her toes, taking in every curve and shadow along the way.

Stunned by her bravery and the beauty she didn't try to hide from him, he murmured, "Whatever did I do to deserve you?"

"You protected me, loved me, and made me your wife."

Clasping her hand, he drew her close then lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. After laying her upon the warmed sheets, he stood and stared in awe at her loveliness. Then she reached for him, and he wasted no time discarding his clothes and joining her.

Gone was the tutor who had instructed the innocent maid in the art of lovemaking, answering her questions and alleviating her fears so he could have his way with her. In his place was a man awakened to the depth of love a husband could feel for his wife.

Lying on his side, Edward trailed his fingers down her flushed cheek and along the line of her jaw. Approaching the sensitive place below her ear, he teased the soft skin, smiling when she shivered. His fingers continued their journey along her collarbone before coming to rest in the valley between her breasts.

"Bella," he murmured, relieved beyond measure he would never be denied the sight of her again. Moving slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he cupped her breast, taking a moment to savour the firm but delicate mound.

Oh, how he'd missed the feel of her breasts filling his hands. The gentle curve perfectly fit his palm, the velvety texture of her areola teased his fingers, and the tip grew and hardened with his touch. As he ran his thumb in circles around one perfect nipple, her breath came in soft pants.

"You have missed this, too, haven't you?" He met her glittering green gaze, and Bella nodded.

Lowering his head, he nuzzled her with his cheek before brushing his lips across the soft peak. After running his tongue over and around it several times, he drew it into his mouth, unable to suppress a groan of satisfaction. Suckling, softly at first then with increasing pressure, he growled possessively, revelling in both the sensation and her cries of delight. Not wanting her other breast to feel neglected, he covered it with his hand, shaping and moulding it before tweaking the nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

Her body arched off the bed, and he smiled against her warmth before covering her legs with one of his own. Rocking against her thigh, he sought relief for his aching member, not that he expected to receive any for some time. With Bella's murmuring her approval, he continued to make love to her breasts, kissing, tasting, teasing. Her hands alternated between tangling in his hair and roaming his shoulders and back. Twining her legs with his, she ran her feet up and down his shins and calves, moving sinuously against him and making no secret of the enjoyment she received from his touch, his caresses, his body.

It was a heady knowledge.

When her whimpers became cries of frustration, Edward moved to do her bidding, stroking his hands along the smooth skin of her thighs. They both shuddered when he cupped the soft curls covering her sex, his fingers sliding between the slick folds. While his mouth continued to tug and tease her nipples in turn, he slowly traced the opening to her body with his fingers. Feeling her wet and wanting beneath his touch, he gently entered her with his fingers, mimicking the action he would make when he moved inside her. With her body trembling with need, Edward wasted no time setting up a rhythm of slow strokes while his thumb swirled in circles around the pleasure-inducing bud hidden at the apex of her curls.

Bella's moans filled the air, as a rosy flush spread across her chest. While she held him as if she had no intention of ever letting go, Edward kept up the combined assault of fingers and thumb on her sex and lips and tongue at her breasts. Her breath quickened. Then with a gasp, she arched beneath him, her body freezing in place as she hovered on the precipice. He stroked more quickly, smiling as she crested the peak. Holding her close, he continued his intimate caresses while she rocked against him, her cries of completion keeping time with the pulses squeezing his fingers. Only when her body lay spent upon the bed did he cease his efforts, trailing a path with his lips from her breasts to her mouth.

"Oh." She sighed. "That was wonderful."

Their gazes met, hers slumberous and temporarily satiated and his dark with yet-to-be-satisfied desire.

"But I want you to feel it, too, Edward . . . with me . . . _inside_ me."

"So do I, sweetheart."

Running her fingers down his back, she urged him closer for a kiss that began as a soft nuzzling of lips but soon became heated with desire. To his surprise, he felt her slide a hand down his torso, moving lower . . . and lower until she reached his aching shaft. Her fingers encircled him, squeezing and stroking in the way he had taught her.

"Bella." He groaned, and her gaze rose to his.

"It's all right," he said when she went to pull away. "I just need you to go slowly, or I shall be finished before we begin." Holding still as she caressed him, Edward acclimatised himself to her touch, if such a thing were possible. Lifting up on one elbow, she looked down at where her pale, slender fingers encircled his darker flesh.

"Oh my." Her gaze met his before returning to view the evidence of her effect on his body. He bore her scrutiny and touch for as long as he could before rolling them over and nestling between her thighs. The feel of their bodies pressed together, skin to skin along their entire lengths, was even better than he recalled.

"I love you." Bella smiled up at him. "So very much."

"As I love you."

He kissed her again, tenderly at first and then with a hunger that bordered on desperation. To his relief, Bella's breath soon came in pants, her desire quickly rekindled. With her hands stroking his back, she raised her thighs to hug his hips, opening herself to him. It was the action of a woman confident in her body, sensual and experienced, but as soon as she had done it, she froze. Lifting his head to meet her gaze, Edward could practically see the self-doubt rising within her.

Reassuring her the best way he knew how, he guided himself to her entrance and pressed forward. Then, moving slowly for fear of hurting her, he joined their bodies. The feel of her silk and velvet sheath encasing him pushed him right to the edge. Panting, he rested on his elbows to keep his weight from pressing too heavily on her smaller frame while he staved off his release. When he opened his eyes, he was pleased to see the anxiety gone from hers.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For not making me feel ashamed of wanting you."

"That's cause for rejoicing, not shame."

"Good." She smiled and rocked her hips against him. "Because I want you so badly. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it feels to have you inside of me."

"Nor I you, but I fear I won't last very long."

"It doesn't matter. We've got as long as you want . . . or need."

Edward smiled. His wife was an astonishing woman, but he had no intention of taking advantage of her generosity in such a way. With his resolve to make this, what should have been their first time, both memorable and mutually satisfying, he began to slide slowly in and out of her body, penetrating deeper as she gradually opened to him. With her hands resting against his chest, she stared up at him while her hips moved in perfect counterpoint to his. The feel of her skin sliding against his increased Edward's passion tenfold, tingling shocks of pleasure racing down his spine and settling low in his groin.

Holding off for as long as he could, Edward groaned when Bella's body began to pulse around him. Arching her back, she cried his name, a look of joy sweeping across her delicate features—and he quickly withdrew. His climax was almost painful in its intensity, his body shuddering as he held her close while she trembled in his arms. When he was finally spent, he rolled onto his side, drawing Bella with him and making sure to keep the small towel he'd used to protect her from his seed between them.

"Edward?" She rose up on one elbow after their breathing had returned to normal. Not worrying about modesty, she let the sheet fall to her waist, and he was momentarily distracted by the sight of her luscious breasts.

"Edward," she repeated, a hint of censure in her tone.

" _Hmm_?" He lifted his gaze to hers, smirking to show he wasn't the least chastened.

"Why did you withdraw?" she asked, and his expression sobered.

His desire to wait to start a family had been strengthened by what he'd learned at the charity home. He had been shocked to discover how many young women died as a result of giving birth before their bodies were fully matured. While Bella was nineteen, no longer a child, her hips were still slender. Added to his concern was the knowledge her mother had lost several babes, eventually succumbing to childbed fever after giving birth to Bella's brother, the boy only surviving a few days. All things considered, Edward was in no hurry to start a family, not when losing the wife he loved more than life itself was a possible outcome.

Mirroring her position, he rose up on one elbow and brushed his fingers down her cheek.

"We discussed this, remember? I asked if you would mind waiting a while to have a babe, and you agreed."

"Yes, but you didn't need to withdraw. I took care of things."

"You took care of things?"

"I used the sponge you gave me." She bit her lip, her expression uncertain.

"You kept it. Why?"

He hadn't meant to sound accusing, but Bella sat up, clutching the sheet in front of her.

"The same reason I kept the pictures I drew of you, of the two of us together, even though I thought you were going to marry Tanya."

"To remember us by, of course. I just didn't expect . . ." His words trailed off, and Bella moved farther away.

"You didn't expect me to use the sponge now that I'm your wife not your mistress."

"Well, no."

Bella dropped her head, and he was shocked to see her blinking, as if she was fighting tears.

"Sweetheart." He sat up and put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her stiff form against his shoulder. "Please don't be upset. You just took me by surprise. I didn't think you would be comfortable using such a method now that, well . . ."

"Now we both know I'm a lady, not a commoner."

He nodded.

"I don't see why not," she said, a hint of defiance in her tone. "It works—at least, it did in the past—and you don't have to, you know."

"You prefer it when I don't withdraw?"

"Don't you?"

"Well, of course, but I shall make whatever sacrifices are necessary to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Bella frowned. "Safe from what?"

"A premature confinement. I want us to wait, not only to give us time together as husband and wife before expanding our family, but until your body is fully matured."

"Edward, I'm almost nineteen _._ I think my body is as mature as it's going to get," she said flatly.

"I spoke with a doctor, several actually," he admitted, and her brows rose. "The consensus is waiting until a woman has passed her twentieth birthday by a year or two to conceive reduces the risks involved with childbirth. I considered suggesting we postpone the wedding, but I feared the King would use a prolonged delay to sway you to his will."

"Sway me?" Bella raised her chin. "You think I am so easily diverted that my affections could be transferred to another if we'd been forced to wait?"

Edward barely restrained a snort. "No, of course not. You are one of the most single-minded young ladies I have ever met."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I fully expect you to love me to the end of our days regardless of my lack of tact." He spread his hands by way of apology while wondering how this conversation had so swiftly gotten out of hand.

"What I _meant_ to say was I feared the King might find a way to force you to his will if given the chance," he said, hoping to mollify her with his explanation. "I knew you weren't averse to my using precautions, and in all honesty, I don't think I could have waited another day to make you mine . . . again."

Bella's expression softened, her lips twitching with the hint of a smile.

"You're not offended by my using the sponge?"

"Why would it offend me?" Edward frowned. "I feared _you_ might find the process distasteful. It's not something gentlemen normally ask of their wives."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe they should. I imagine it's a lot more reliable at preventing conception than withdrawing at the last possible moment. Plus, it has the added bonus of our not having to stop after the first time."

Edward couldn't hide his shock. "You'd like to make love again . . . more than once?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Groaning, he ran his hand through his hair. What he wanted and what was acceptable husbandly behaviour were two different things.

"That's very kind of you, but it's not necessary." He smiled, hoping to reassure her. "You have had a long day and need your rest."

Bella opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a kiss, as he highly doubted he could resist a second offer. She really was too generous for her own good. Rising from the bed, Edward dealt with the towel and then quickly donned his nightshirt. Collecting her gown from beside the bed, he looked up to find Bella watching him.

"Was it not to your liking?" she asked. "Was I too forward?"

"No!" He sat beside her on the bed. "It was perfect, as are you. I just don't want you to think I expect more of you as my wife than is reasonable."

"Reasonable." She nodded slowly. "You said wives were cold, unfeeling, and took no pleasure in marital relations."

"Which just goes to prove how much of an idiot I can be." He kissed the tip of her nose. "But you need have no fear of my taking advantage of you or behaving inappropriately as your husband."

Bella looked like she might argue again, so he pushed the gown into her hands.

"This doesn't look comfortable for sleeping with all that lace. Would you rather I collected one of your older gowns from your dressing room?"

"No, it's fine," she muttered, tugging the delicate material over her head in such a forceful way he was surprised it didn't tear. Slumping down on the pillow, she turned to face the wall. When he joined her, she kept her back to him, and Edward feared he'd upset her. Placing an arm around her waist, he pulled her close, though not too close or she might detect his continued arousal.

"Good night," he whispered.

"Good night," she said after a long pause, and Edward sighed.

He'd been warned that wives were prickly creatures. He just hadn't expected as much from Bella, certainly not on their wedding night. Still, it had been a long day.

 **~I~**

 **Well, that started well and deteriorated surprisingly quickly. I remember that sort of thing happening quite often when I was young. Life is so much easier when you don't try and read your partner's mind and ask them to explain themselves if you're unsure about anything. ;)**

 **xx Elise**


	61. Contradictions

**Well, Lord Jackass is frustrating the lot of us with his obtuseness, but we'll see some definite progress this chapter. Not necessarily a resolution...but progress!**

 **Wedding nights were tricky things back when it was common for it to be the couple's first time making love. One of my girlfriends was left feeling rather let down after being told to expect something pretty spectacular and receiving a few minutes, er, attention, and then having her new husband role over and go to sleep. Talk about a letdown! My wedding night was much nicer, though we may have gone for quantity over quality, as neither of us had much of an idea what we were doing. Learning sure was fun though. ;)**

 **Anyway, that was probably way too much information, as they say, but I think I'm a bit loopy from the medication I'm taking.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Contradictions**

Bella waited until she was certain Edward was asleep to get up and use the water closet located in the adjoining bathing room.

"Stupid, stubborn man," she muttered, tempted to throw the sponge in the rubbish. All his talk of accepting her the way she was—that she was the same girl he had fallen in love with when he had believed her a maid, and of course he didn't want her to change now that he knew she was a lady—was utter rot. While he had enjoyed the benefits of her previous wantonness immensely, it was clear he now believed such behaviour to be wicked or, at the very least, inappropriate.

Grumbling under her breath, Bella made her way in the semidarkness to her new dressing room, rummaging around until she found a plain cotton nightgown. Edward had been right about one thing—the beautiful nightgown was not designed for sleep. The lace itched, and she feared the wide neckline could cause it to fall off her shoulders. God forbid he should awaken and find her half naked. He might think she was attempting to seduce him!

A sob erupted from Bella's lips, and she muffled it with her hand. After indulging in a few angry tears, she considered the possibility she was judging Edward too harshly. It wasn't as if their wedding night had been a complete disaster. He'd been very attentive, clearly determined she enjoy their lovemaking as much as he did. It was obvious he still appreciated her responsiveness, but he also appeared to be under the impression she'd been transformed by acknowledgement of her station and the exchanging of matrimonial vows into a wilting lily who required excessive amounts of rest.

Taking a seat in her dressing room, Bella allowed a few more tears to fall. She'd been through so much, and tonight was supposed to be one of the happiest of her life, not limited by expectations she had no desire to meet.

Unsure how to proceed, she decided she would take her cue from her husband—temporarily. At least now that they were married she had time on her side, time in which he would surely come to his senses.

After three days of marriage, Bella's confidence had taken somewhat of a beating. While settling into their new home was a congenial exercise, navigating the more intimate aspects of their relationship was a little more complicated.

Edward continued to share her bed, or invite her into his, the first part of each evening undeniably pleasant. His attentiveness ensured she found no fault in their lovemaking, but he seemed convinced his lady wife would not, _could_ not, enjoy anything other than the most conservative of couplings. After his reaction on their wedding night, she decided not to raise the possibility of their making love more than once a day, hoping to entice him without words when he was at his most vulnerable—first thing in the morning. Her plan fell by the wayside when she awoke to find his side of the bed empty, an occurrence he appeared to be making a habit.

Bella refused to be disheartened. While she understood a wife must behave with more circumspection than a mistress, she was convinced their marriage need not be overly different than the life Edward had wanted them to lead when he'd believed her a commoner. She just needed to convince him.

On the journey from London to visit his country estate and her new home, Masen Park, they spent the first night in a luxurious inn. Bella wasn't worried when he requested separate suites, as appearances must be maintained. But she couldn't deny, or hide, her disappointment when he didn't join her.

"We've shared a bed every night since the wedding," he murmured for her ears only when she asked him the reason for his absence over breakfast the next morning. "Considering the arduous journey, I thought you would appreciate a rest."

"A rest," Bella echoed, her hopes of success becoming a little less certain. When he stayed away the second night of their journey, they were further deflated. If he didn't put aside his excessive concern for her well-being once they were a farther away from society's frustrating rules and expectations, she wasn't sure what she was going to do.

Topping the rise to Masen Park, Bella lifted up from her seat to gain a better view.

"It's lovely." She smiled down at Edward.

"Not as grand as Worthington Hall, of course."

"Which is a good thing," she said, taking in the sweeping drive, manicured gardens, and elegant three-storey red brick mansion. "It's perfect."

"As are you."

Surprising her, Edward drew her down beside him and captured her lips. Unperturbed that their display of affection was witnessed by the various gardeners, farm workers, and tenants who had come to view their arrival, he kissed her soundly.

"Edward." She broke away with a breathless laugh. "People are watching. What will they think of your new marchioness for allowing such familiarity?"

"Nothing untoward, I can assure you." She raised a brow, and he continued. "You are the nation's sweetheart, my darling, and can do no wrong in their eyes."

Bella huffed a breath at his nonsense. "Very well. What will they think of their incumbent lord for his outrageous behaviour?"

"Me? Outrageous?"

"Kissing one's new bride in public is hardly the done thing."

"It is when one's bride is as beautiful as mine." With a smug smile curving his now reddened lips, he placed his arm around her shoulders for all to see. "Don't worry. They'll be too busy concluding I am the most fortunate of men to be bothered with judgement."

Bella wasn't so sure but did her best to enjoy the moment, contradictory though his behaviour might be.

"And this is your new artist's studio," Edward announced with unmistakeable pride after taking her on a tour of the main areas of the home.

"Studio?"

Wearing a puzzled smile, Bella followed him into the sunny, south-facing room, its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens and river that meandered past Masen Park. An easel stood ready, a blank canvas resting upon it. All manner of supplies lined the shelves, with jars of powders and oil ready for mixing on a conveniently located workbench.

"I had the supplies purchased in the city and have received several recommendations for notable tutors residing in the district. Just say the word, and your lessons can begin."

"But I've already had lessons." She looked around her in bemusement. "Lots of them. I was told my talent is limited and unlikely to develop further."

"Rubbish." Edward's brow furrowed in a scowl she thought excessive for the occasion. "Your sketches are wonderful, and the little self-portrait you did for me captured your likeness perfectly."

"After more than a dozen attempts," she said dryly, wandering the room and taking in its many treasures.

"Would you not enjoy the opportunity to indulge your hobby? I was looking forward to hanging some of your paintings in our home. I thought you'd be pleased."

"I am." She tried to sound grateful. "But I fear your expectations are unrealistic. I'm a dabbler, nothing more."

"Well, then, you can dabble to your heart's content, and I will gush excessively."

Coming to stand behind her, he wrapped his arms around Bella's waist and rested his head on her shoulder. At times like this, when he lowered his guard and allowed a greater degree of familiarity between them, she could almost fool herself into believing they were back at Worthington. Although if that had been the case, she'd not have hesitated to tell Edward the truth.

As much as she appreciated the opportunity he was giving her to spend some time sketching and painting, what she would have preferred was the chance to indulge her much greater passion—baking. But it wasn't done for the wife of a marquis to spend her time wearing an apron, elbow deep in flour, and in the company of her kitchen staff.

After making a deliberate fuss over his gift, Bella plucked up the courage to ask Edward for a tour of the kitchens.

"As mistress of the household, it is part of my duties to oversee their running," she added at his puzzled glance.

"But isn't that Mrs Jones' job? I'm sure she'll report to you regularly, requesting your approval of menus and the like."

"Please, Edward? I would like to see them."

"Of course. Anything you desire."

He smiled, but Bella struggled to mirror it. She could have anything she desired as long as it wasn't a return to the uninhibited relationship they'd previously shared.

Chef Louis welcomed her warmly, and she smiled at the rest of the kitchen staff. The servants from their London house had travelled ahead of the honeymooners to ensure all would be in readiness upon their arrival.

"Are the facilities to your liking?" Bella asked, eyeing the gleaming benches and neatly arranged utensils covetously. Unable to resist, she lifted the lid on a pot simmering on one of the enormous stove tops, savouring the smell of the French onion soup they would be served at some point, she imagined. A quick peek in the oven revealed Louis was preparing fruit scones, one of Bella's favourites, for their afternoon tea.

"The kitchen is newly renovated and perfectly adequate," Louis said, batting her hands away with a cloth. "But how many times have I warned you about opening the oven without checking with me first, _chérie_? What if I had been raising a _soufflé_?"

"Then I would have been suitably chastened." Bella smiled. "And seriously concerned about my sense of smell."

The Frenchman chuckled and asked Bella when she would be joining him for a pastry baking session. "I'm yet to learn the secret to the chocolate pastries you told me so much about. I would like a demonstration."

"Oh, I don't think that will be possible." Her smile fading, Bella looked to where Edward was observing the exchange. "Spending time baking isn't appropriate behaviour for a marchioness."

"Says who?" he asked.

"Everyone, I imagine."

Ignoring the watching staff, Edward closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Well, _everyone_ can mind their own business. If my wife wants to spend time baking delicacies which, I can assure you, I will greatly enjoy eating, then she jolly well shall."

"Truly?" Bella blinked. "But aren't you concerned about what people will think?"

"Not in the least. But we don't have to make a public announcement if you would prefer to keep your hobby a secret."

"It's hardly a secret," she said wryly. "The entire country has learned the shocking news I worked as a pastry chef when in hiding. Although I don't think our neighbours will be impressed if they hear I have voluntarily returned to the kitchen."

Edward shrugged and looked to the hovering staff.

"Do you think we could keep this between us so as not to embarrass the Marchioness? She loves to bake, and I want her to be able to enjoy her hobby without fear of censure from the local harridans."

"Of course!" Chef Louis boomed. "Mademoiselle Isabella, I mean _Madame_ Masen, should not be deprived from indulging her passions, _oui_?"

" _Oui_." Edward looked to the other staff, who gave their assurances, then smiled upon meeting Bella's stunned gaze.

"Are you certain you wouldn't mind? Baking is hardly an acceptable pastime for a lady."

"It is if it makes you happy. I have been remiss if you think I would deny you something you desire."

"Aren't you afraid of my taking terrible advantage?"

Edward's eyes darkened, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled a long, slow breath. "Of course not." He looked away before escorting her from the kitchens and continuing their tour of the estate.

The encounter encouraged Bella on two fronts. While she was pleased to know she'd be able to return to a pastime she enjoyed, more importantly, she was given cause to question Edward's motivation. If, as she was beginning to suspect, his actions were a misguided attempt to ensure her well-being rather than a deliberate pandering to society's expectations, she had reason to hope for a return to the way things were between them when the rules had not applied to her—the way she preferred.

Not unexpectedly, when Edward kissed her good night in the sitting room that adjoined their suites that evening, Bella received the impression he would not be joining her. Again.

Taking a deep breath, she eyed him determinedly. "Shall I come to your room tonight, or will you come to mine?"

"That won't be necessary, sweetheart. It's been a long day, and I'm sure you would appreciate your rest."

"Oh, you are sure, are you?" She crossed her arms.

Edward blinked. "Bella?"

"You are _sure_ I would appreciate my rest."

"Well . . . yes?"

"Just as you were _sure_ I wouldn't have welcomed you in my bed during the journey here, even though I informed you I sleep perfectly well with you beside me, _better_ than when I'm alone."

Edward winced. "I'm sorry, but I'd thought I would be able to sleep beside you on those nights when we haven't—when we _can't—_ make love, but I fear my self-control doesn't extend that far."

"Are you referring to when I have my courses?" Bella's frown deepened. "I wasn't expecting us to share a bed then, unless it wouldn't bother you lying beside me, but they're not due for almost a fortnight."

"Oh, that's . . . good to know." Edward looked a little squeamish at her disclosure, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"So, would you like to join me, or shall I join you?"

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, a habit she'd heard his valet grumble about more than once but that Bella usually found endearing. At the moment, she was too annoyed to think it charming.

"I can assure you, I feel perfectly well," she added, hoping to alleviate his concern.

"I'm glad to hear it, but we've already made love three times since we wed, and it hasn't even been a week."

It was Bella's turn to stare blankly. "So? I can recall some memorable occasions when we made love three times in one _night_ at Worthington, not to mention entire days we spent in my bed."

"For which I am trying to make amends." Edward hung his head. "I appreciate your lack of rancour over the past, Bella, but three times in one week is more than sufficient. Hell, most gentlemen would be grateful for three times a month!"

"I see." She pursed her lips before continuing. "So, we are to be limited to engaging in conjugal relations no more than three times a week—if that—because society dictates any more is excessive."

"Society?" Edward frowned. "I don't give a damn about society's opinion or anyone else's for that matter. It's none of their business."

"I agree, but it appears my opinion counts for little also."

Edward threw his arms wide, appearing as exasperated as she felt. "But your opinion is the only one that counts."

"How can you say that when you have never sought it? Not in this regard."

"Because I know how generous you are, and I feared you would . . ." His words trailed away.

Bella resisted the urge to throw a cushion at him. "Lie? Say I want to make love when I don't? Pretend to enjoy your attentions when I find indulging them a chore?"

Edward took a step back. "Well, no . . ."

"Or is all your talk of accepting me the way I am the real lie? You say I have nothing to be ashamed of, but what if I were to admit I want to be able to make love more than once a night on occasions and that every night would be my preference? I realise that might change in future, but we're on our honeymoon, Edward, finally able to be together legitimately, yet I fear expressing my true desires will incur your disdain."

When he didn't immediately deny her accusation, Bella turned and left, afraid she might say something she would regret—or throw something harder than a cushion. Alone in her room, she waited for Edward to follow her, but he didn't. It was only when she was wearing a plain, _comfortable_ nightgown, curled up in her overly large bed, that she allowed her tears to fall.

 **~I~**

 **Hmmm...I suspect I was channeling some of DH and my newlywed misunderstandings when writing this. Communication has certainly gotten easier over the years. On a positive note, just because Edward hasn't rushed to Bella's side doesn't mean he's not doing some serious thinking. I foresee a timely revelation in his very near future! At least he got the 'baking' right, and his heart was in the right place with the studio...which I would have loved to have...along with the mansion, the money, and the maids. Oh yes, maids to do the cleaning. Sigh...**

 **xx Elise**


	62. Assumptions

**Oh, your reviews gave me quite the chuckle! I loved your names for Edward. We had several 'stupid mans' and a 'sweet but thick-headed', but 'pudding for brains' was probably my** favourite **. I think he redeems himself rather well this chapter, including being, ahem, ready and available for round two!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Assumptions**

Edward stared at Bella's retreating back, his mouth hanging open.

 _What the hell just happened?_

Shaking his head, he crossed to the buffet and poured himself a shot of brandy. He wasn't sure drinking would be the wisest move, as his thoughts were already confused, so he sat nursing the drink while he rehashed their conversation.

If he understood correctly, Bella wanted to make love every night, and she wouldn't be averse to more than once. In trying to protect her—from what he was no longer sure—it sounded as if he had made her feel inadequate. He had also put her in the unenviable position of having to broach the delicate topic, and he feared she would consider his stunned silence a rejection of her brave advance.

"Damn," he muttered. He should have just come out and asked her what she wanted. Assuming had made an ass of him, _again._

Edward stared into his glass before a smile slowly stretched his lips.

Bella wanted him to make love to her every night, and she wouldn't be averse to more than once.

"Jenkins?" he called, putting the brandy aside and wrestling with the knot on his cravat.

"Sweetheart are you asleep?" Edward whispered upon finding Bella curled on her side, looking a little lost in the enormous bed.

"No, I'm awake." She sat up and crossed her arms. "I'm not a child, Edward. If you have come to make sure I'm getting my rest, so help me—"

He raised his hands. "That's not why I'm here."

"Then what do you want?"

Considering her less than congenial tone, he refrained from blurting _you_ , despite it being the truth.

"I have come to apologise," he said, and she plopped back against the pillow. "Not for offending you, well, not in the way I thought I had in the past."

She leaned up on an elbow. "In what way, then?"

"I should have asked you what you wanted instead of presuming I knew best. I honestly don't care about society's opinion, Bella. What occurs in our bedroom is no one's business but ours, and I do not and never will think badly of you for wanting me the way I want you."

"Are you certain?"

The wariness in her tone pricked at his conscience, and he came to sit beside her on the bed. "Absolutely, and I'm sorry for sending mixed messages again."

"I would say your messages were fairly direct," she said dryly. "Just misguided and ill-informed."

Edward's lip twisted at her assessment. "Since my making assumptions has gotten us into this pickle, may I be so bold as to ask for clarification?"

"You may." Her expression was still serious, but he detected a lightening in her eyes. It gave him hope he'd not damaged things between them irreparably.

"Did I understand correctly that you would not be averse to our being intimate more often than a few nights a week, even more than once a night on occasion?"

Bella ducked her head, but she couldn't hide her smile. "If you are absolutely certain you wouldn't think badly of me, then yes, that would be my preference."

"Thank God!" Edward wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both to the middle of the bed. "Not that I have anything to complain about, as I can assure you I would have been grateful if you had said three times a week were sufficient, but I would be most pleased to accommodate your preference."

Bella giggled. "Considering you are still wearing your robe, I'm in my nightgown, not to mention the way you have tangled the sheets around us, it may take a while before we can oblige one another."

"Minx," he whispered, lowering his head until their mouths met. Before the kiss could get too far out of hand, he raised his head. "Promise me one thing? If you ever feel disinclined, you mustn't hesitate to tell me. I'm sure there will be nights when you are tired, or not feeling well, or just not in the mood for whatever reason. I don't want you to think you are beholden in any way."

"I won't." Bella cupped his cheek. "I promise to be honest with you, as long as you promise to do the same. There may be some nights _you_ prefer not to make love."

Edward barked a laugh. "Sweetheart, I'm afraid you will need to be the one in charge of exercising restraint, as I'm fairly certain I would still be eager on my deathbed."

"Foolish man." She drew his head down to hers and kissed him in a way that was anything but restrained.

"Let me up," she whispered when they finally paused for breath.

"Why?" he grumbled, nuzzling her neck. "I like you right where you are."

"As do I." She wriggled beneath him. "But I need a moment to prepare if we're going to deviate from our established routine, and a little less material between us would be nice."

By the time Bella returned, Edward was waiting beneath the covers. She had undone her hair from its braid, leaving it loose around her shoulders, but still wore the serviceable nightgown. After spying his robe draped across a chair, she didn't hesitate to whisk her gown off over her head before joining him beneath the sheets. Completely naked. Just as she had on their wedding night.

Good Lord, he had been a fool.

"This, I like," he murmured, drawing her into his embrace.

"So do I." She pressed herself tightly against him.

They made love as they had on the previous three occasions since they'd wed, with her beautiful body stretched out beneath him while he moved over her. It was simple, sensual, and utterly sublime, and he made sure Bella was fully satisfied while finding no small pleasure in the coupling himself.

Despite the similarity with their previous joinings as man and wife, Edward noticed a difference in Bella. She was less reserved, freer in her responses, and her cries were definitely louder. Her enjoyment intensified his own satisfaction, and Edward's groans filled the room. Finally spent, he maintained just enough presence of mind to keep his weight on his elbows. But to his astonishment, Bella's body continued to respond long after his was replete, his slightest movement or caress or brush of his lips triggering another round of pulses to contract deep within her.

"You amaze me," he whispered when she eventually lay still beneath him. "I cannot begin to quantify my love for you or the depth of my adoration."

Smiling up at him, she confused Edward by pushing on his shoulders. Fearing his weight must be too great for her, he went to pull away.

"Take me with you." She squeezed her thighs tightly, so his still-hard member stayed buried within her as he rolled them onto their sides. The new position was intimate but not overly comfortable, and she continued to push on his shoulders.

"I want to be on top the second time," she said when he raised a brow, her lovely face revealing a heady mix of shyness and determination. More than happy to oblige her, he rolled onto his back so her lithe body sprawled on top of him.

"Better?"

She nodded, though her expression was a little uncertain.

"What is it?" He stroked a lock of hair back from her face.

Rather than reply with words, she sat up, so she was mounted astride his hips. Wiggling a little, she seated him more deeply inside, her actions eliciting a rumbling growl from his throat. With a coy smile, Bella released her lip from between her teeth to stroke it with her tongue, triggering another groan.

"You love me," she said, her sober expression gaining his undivided attention. "You love me, and you want me to be unguarded when we are intimate?" Her voice rose questioningly, and Edward hated that he had put the doubt in her eyes.

"Yes, Bella, a thousand times, yes."

"Good." She nodded once. Then with a sultry smile, she rested her hands on his chest and began to ride him. Her hair fell around them like a shawl, and he shuddered as it brushed against his skin. Her thighs hugged his sides whilst her bottom pressed against his groin with each rise and fall of her hips.

Edward's hands eagerly cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples with his thumbs. Moaning, she arched her back, pressing against his hands and silently asking for more. Eager to please, he lifted his head off the pillow and captured a swaying breast with his lips, suckling the nipple against the roof of his mouth. When he teased the sensitive bud with his lips and tongue, she cried out, and he smiled against her softness and warmth.

There was a heaven, he decided, and it was right here on earth.

Bella seemed to be in agreement, her moans of pleasure increasing as his hands alternated between caressing her breasts, paying the same attention to the curves of her bottom, and guiding her perfectly rounded hips. Not that she needed his direction. She rode him, slow and gently, squeezing her inner muscles until the sensations threatened to overwhelm him, then fast and hard as he thrust upward to meet her downward strokes. Just when he thought he couldn't last any longer, her back arched and he felt her tighten around him. Holding to the remnants of his control, he continued stroking her while her body trembled.

Only when her head fell forward, her eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze, did he surrender to his own release. Groaning, he arched beneath her before collapsing back on the bed, his body shuddering as rapture coursed through him. With a sigh, she fell forward, and he cradled her in his arms—his sensual, responsive, _determined_ young wife.

 **~I~**

 **Did I remember to mention this chapter was pure smutty goodness? Personally, I like my HEAs to be long and satisfying. I can be quite determined myself in that regard. ;)**

 **xx Elise**


	63. Acceptable - Celebration

**Yay! We all agreed Edward finally got his head out of his ass! He truly is a gorgeous specimen of a man...but maybe not the brightest?**

 **This next chapter is ridiculously short. Seriously, I'm talking 650 words. I have _no_ idea what my editor was thinking allowing it...so I've added the next chapter on the end. Enjoy!**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Acceptable**

Waking in her husband's arms was one of the truest joys Bella had ever known. It was also much better than waking alone. With her head resting comfortably on his shoulder, she trailed her fingers through the soft curls that formed an inverted triangle in the centre of his chest. He stroked her bare arm in return, and she sighed contentedly.

"Sorry." Edward's lips nuzzled her brow. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You are forgiven," she murmured, moving to lie on top of him. "As long as you promise to awaken me the same way every morning."

"I'm surprised this is your first choice." He ran his hands up and down her back, his lips curling into a sultry smirk. "You wouldn't prefer I woke you in the manner I used earlier?"

Despite the intimacy of their position, and the uninhibited way in which she'd responded to him throughout the night, Bella felt a blush warm her cheeks. With their expectations finally in accord, they had stayed awake until the early hours with only short rests in between their bouts of lovemaking. Eventually exhausted, she had fallen asleep with Edward's body curled around her, only to be woken some time later to the feel of his hand at her breast and his apparently never-sated member pressing against her from behind. What had ensued was a reenactment of one of her fonder memories from their time together at Worthington, the new memory one she would treasure also.

"Well, now that you mention it." Bella kept her tone purposefully prim despite the shivers running through her. "I suppose there are any number of ways you could choose to awaken me that I would find acceptable."

In a flash, he rolled them over, so she was beneath him, her hands pinned above her head.

"'Acceptable'?" He scowled, a glint in his eyes. "You dare to call my passionate and highly skilled lovemaking 'acceptable'?"

"Quite admirably so."

She fluttered her eyelashes, giggling when he nibbled her neck with his lips. Releasing her hands, he gently stroked her cheek, his grin fading. His change in mood mirrored her own, as she was filled with relief at their _finally_ being together without reservation.

"I love you," he whispered, and she nodded, her voice too tight for words. "And I'm sorry for the unnecessary restraints I placed upon us."

She brushed his hair from his forehead, and he turned his head to kiss her palm. "You meant well, but it's past time you ceased with the self-castigation, Edward. I wanted to be with you at Worthington, as much as you wanted to be with me. We both made mistakes, but we've been given a second chance."

"Which I almost ruined." His expression turned bleak. "First by keeping things from you, then through lack of consultation regarding your wishes."

"It wouldn't be the first time things have gone awry in my life because I have been kept in the dark." Bella did her best to keep the memories of Hunter's brutality at bay but couldn't control the shiver that coursed through her.

"You're safe now," Edward murmured, reaching to kiss her cheek.

"I know," she said. "But I don't want to be left uninformed ever again. My father sought only to protect me, and I appreciate that you were similarly motivated, but I'm stronger than you think."

"I meant it when I promised you there will be no more secrets between us," Edward said. "It's one I am determined to keep as faithfully as my wedding vows."

Bella smiled, the tension leaving her body. "Now if we can just manage to communicate openly with one another, I foresee us living very contentedly together."

"Our own _happily ever after_?" He smirked.

"It's been known to happen." Bella eyed him archly before drawing her far from cynical husband down into her arms.

 **~I~**

Celebration

Japser was right. It was possible to have the best of both worlds.

For a long time, Edward couldn't imagine being happier than he'd been when he had made Bella his mistress. Indulging their passion for one another, enjoying her company, caring for and keeping her safe. It had been the highlight of his life until that point . . . but not without its lows. Her insights about women, class, and fidelity had been both curious and challenging, bothering his conscience. He'd been willing to make what most would have considered a ridiculous sacrifice to keep her in his life, foregoing marriage and a legitimate heir so that she would stay with him. And when he thought he'd lost her . . .

A shudder passed through him, and Edward reached for Bella's hand seeking reassurance. On their way to Worthington for their first Christmas together as man and wife, this was the second day of their journey.

"Hello husband." She put her book aside and smiled at him.

"Hello wife." He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Marriage to Bella was even better than having her as his mistress and not at all what he'd expected. Growing up in a household where there was no love lost between the husband and wife, and society's expectations hung noose-like over all their heads, had warped his views of the institution . . . and ladies in general. Bella was nothing like his mother, 'cold and unfeeling' the least appropriate descriptions of her nature he could imagine. Sometimes he wondered what his mother would have been like if she'd not been raised with such a constrained view of acceptable female behaviour. Thank God Alice had not been so stifled.

He was looking forward to seeing her and Jasper, the couple only recently returned from their honeymoon. While Edward still wasn't comfortable thinking of his sister as a married woman with everything that entailed, he couldn't deny he was happy for her. Jasper was a lucky man, both brave and determined, as he'd had to endure being threatened to a fare-thee-well by not only his prospective wife's father but also her brother.

"What are you smiling about?" Bella asked, snuggling a little closer.

"Just remembering the look on Jasper's face when I told him what the consequences would be if he ever hurt or disappointed Alice."

"I remember." Bella laughed. "Alice was so cross, as Jasper wouldn't even give her a peck on the cheek after they were betrothed, refusing to touch her at _all_ before the wedding. Whatever did you threaten him with?"

"The same threats your father used on me when we were becoming _acquainted_ at the palace. He's very protective of you and has quite the imagination . . . not unlike someone else I know."

" _Hmm_." Bella's smile held a decidedly sultry overtone. "I do have an excellent imagination, one I have put to good use to solve a minor dilemma of ours."

"What dilemma is that?" Puzzled, Edward watched as she drew the curtains. When realisation dawned as to her intentions, he didn't know whether to laugh or groan.

There was something about a long carriage ride that inspired his wife to heights of ingenuity, and they _definitely_ could not manage a journey of any great distance without her finding her way onto his lap. Admittedly, that was usually Edward's doing. But in taking it further, the reality had not lived up to his expectations.

The night of the King's ball, the hoops and petticoats beneath her gown had prevented him taking things beyond a few tender kisses—that and the knowledge her father would soon be re-joining them, and their decision to wait until they were wed to be intimate. On their return journey from Masen to London for the Little Season, they'd been likeminded in their determination that Edward should finally _have_ her in a carriage. While enjoyable, it had been an awkward affair, traditional fashions not suited for the occasion.

Reaching the conclusion some ideas were better left to the realm of the imagination, they had resigned themselves to finding other ways to pass the time whilst travelling, at least, Edward had. It appeared his wife was not so easily defeated

"Sweetheart?" He raised a brow. She could just be planning on taking a nap, though she didn't normally worry about darkening the carriage before doing so.

Bella didn't respond but sat on the bench opposite and reached down to remove her short travelling boots. Swallowing hard, Edward concluded his wife had something other than an afternoon rest in mind. For that, she normally just leaned her head against his shoulder. With her boots removed, she sat up and eyed him in a desultory fashion, though he suspected conversation was the _last_ thing on her mind.

Oh hell. Even if it was awkward, it would be worth it.

His eyes fixed on her plump lower lip which glistened from where she had slowly swiped it with her tongue, then they followed the movement of her fingers as they released the buttons fastening her pelisse. With a shrug, the garment slid from her shoulders to reveal a dress he'd not seen her wear for some time.

"One of the Worthington gowns?"

"Yes. One of the one's I had modified so I could don and remove it myself."

"Why did you do that?"

Bella hesitated before answering. "In case I had to make my own way, without the aid of a lady's maid." Edward winced, and she rushed to add, "But it wasn't necessary. Let's not focus on the reason _why_ I have a gown that is easy to remove but the fact that it is."

After undoing the first three buttons of the bodice, she slipped the sleeves off her shoulders, leaving them beautifully bare.

"Won't you become chilled?"

"Not if you keep me warm." She stood and closed the distance between them. "I can do the same for you if you would like to remove your own coat. It is rather restrictive."

Moving as swiftly as the fashionable cut of his jacket allowed, Edward wrestled himself free—a task that normally required the assistance of his valet—then he grasped Bella's hips with his hands. The fabric of her gown slid easily over her skin, his fingers pressing into the flesh beneath unhindered.

"You're not wearing any petticoats?"

"Or corset."

"No corset?" Edward's brows disappeared beneath his fringe as he confirmed her words with questing fingers.

Releasing a few more buttons on her gown, she leaned forward, giving him a tantalising glimpse of her cleavage.

"Or chemise," she whispered.

"Hell and damnation."

" _Language,_ Edward." Bella giggled.

"Forgive me," he sputtered, discomposed and aroused by the knowledge his typically decorous young wife had the temerity to embark upon their journey wearing nothing more than a flimsy gown beneath her coat for modesty.

Straddling his lap, Bella went to work on removing his intricately tied cravat, a deed she accomplished with little expertise but considerable tenacity. While he sat dumbly, she applied herself to removing his vest and opening his shirt, pressing against his groin as she wiggled and squirmed with her efforts.

"That's better," she whispered upon baring his chest to her appreciative gaze.

Embarking on a gentle exploration, her fingers brushed over his skin, their touch feather-soft at first but becoming firmer as she caressed his rapidly warming flesh.

Edward responded with a low and guttural groan.

"You like that?" Her fingers traced patterns in the hair upon his chest then trailed a path down to the waistband of his breeches. "My hands on your bare skin?"

"You know I do."

"I like it, too." She undid the remaining buttons holding the front of her gown closed, the fabric slowly parting to reveal her bare breasts . . .

The huge fireplace at Worthington Hall blazed, its golden glow reminding Edward of the way the flame from their carriage's brazier had illuminated the gold in Bella's red hair. His eager hands had dislodged the pins that held it in place, causing the curls to tumble around her in disarray, something for which she had scolded him in earnest when it came time to reorder her attire at the end of their journey. It had been worth it, and since the encounter was one she had orchestrated, she could hardly blame him.

Lost in the memory, the flickering light reminded Edward of the way Bella's skin had shimmered while she had taken him on a long, slow ride to ecstasy.

"Sweet perfection," he murmured, momentarily forgetting time and place.

"Do I want to know what that comment is in regard to, or do I risk your formidable wrath for asking?"

The burn in Edward's cheeks alerted him to the inconvenient blush Emmett's words had triggered, and he speared him with a look.

"Don't tease him, Emmett." Jasper grinned. "I'm sure he's merely ruminating on the joys of matrimony."

"Or maybe his comment was in reference to that remarkable soufflé Uncle's chef conjured for dessert," Emmett added. "Not only was he lost in thought when we approached, he was practically salivating."

"It was a delicious soufflé," Edward said dryly. "Though I'm fairly certain the credit for its creation should rightly go to my wife, not Chef Peters. She disappeared into the kitchens not long after we arrived this afternoon and returned smelling of sugar and lemons."

Emmett snickered. "I take it she _was_ the inspiration for your words, one way or another?"

Edward's laughter joined his friend's and cousin's before their gazes sought the beautiful women, similarly clad in taffeta gowns, congregated on the far side of the room. Sensing their husbands' interest, the ladies turned to meet their admiring gazes.

While Edward's primary focus was Bella, he took note of the look Alice sent her husband of three months. His muscles tensed, but he did his best to keep his hypocrisy, tongue, and reactions in check. It was necessary for his peace of mind, however, to avoid contemplating the reason Alice now glowed with the same happiness and contentment that shone from Bella's face and simply be grateful she was enjoying her role as Jasper's wife.

Rosalie's expression was more reserved, but there was no denying Emmett's and her sojourn in Ireland had wrought a remarkable change in her demeanour. The look she bestowed on her husband was surprisingly devoid of both disinterest and disdain. While he doubted the acerbic edge to her nature would ever be entirely eradicated, for the first time since he'd known her, other than during the short period when she had acted to secure Emmett's attention, she treated her husband with something akin to respect.

Unable to restrain their curiosity, Edward and Jasper had broached the subject with Emmett earlier, eager to know the methods he had employed to bring about such an improvement in his wife. Unsurprisingly, Emmett had remained tight-lipped, merely stating he and Rosalie had come to an understanding. Servants' gossip, relayed to Edward by his equally curious wife, had revealed a shared bed was part of their new arrangement.

"I think it's wonderful," Bella had informed him after Rosalie offered a more heartfelt apology than the one she had given prior to their wedding. Setting aside her wariness, Bella was eager to encourage a friendship with the woman who had previously tormented her.

"You are the most forgiving of creatures," Edward had murmured while nuzzling her ear. "But do be cautious. Only time will tell if the change in Rosalie's demeanour is lasting or merely some sophisticated ruse whose purpose is yet to be revealed."

"Oh, you." Bella had harrumphed. "You are such a cynic, too often believing the worst of people."

Edward had laughed aloud, pulling her with him to lie sprawled across _their_ shared bed.

"I would say it's because I am a good judge of character," he had argued, rolling to pin her giggling form beneath him. "But it's difficult for me to defend that position when I was so easily fooled into believing you were a servant. I think the accusation of cynicism is a tad harsh, considering I was willing to give up everything, if necessary, to have you in my life."

Bella's laughter had faded at his words, as all thoughts other than pleasing each other fled from their minds.

"Time to open our gifts."

Alice's announcement drew Edward from his reverie, and he strode to where Bella was standing not far from her father and his new bride, Penelope. Ignoring propriety, he nuzzled her throat just above where the Masen rubies nestled around her neck.

"Edward," she whispered, her words more sigh than rebuke. "You keep me under a perpetual blush with your improper attentions."

Glancing to the side, he was unsurprised to see the older couple smiling indulgently.

"Ah, but I like your blushes, and I don't think our current audience could care one whit."

"True." She relented, shooting her father an embarrassed smile before taking a seat close to Edward while Alice distributed the gifts.

The other couples seated themselves in the chairs drawn in a semicircle, with Penelope's two boys seated at her feet. They'd been given permission to remain with the adults past their bedtime, to receive one gift each before their nurse collected them.

The presents exchanged—whether expensive jewels and gold or silver accoutrements, or simpler gifts of hand-knitted scarves and caps, lace shawls, books, and trinkets—were given with forethought and from the heart.

Bella smiled at the sapphire necklace, bracelet, and earrings Edward gave her before giving him a look he was all too familiar with. He shrugged. She already owned more jewels than she could possibly wear in one lifetime—her words, not Edward's—but he liked to spoil her. The matching gold sleeve buttons, stickpin, and watch fob she gave him were equally unnecessary, but he made a point of receiving them graciously.

It was only when the grander gifts had been exchanged, the boys bade good night, and the other couples were reminiscing over glasses of eggnog, that Edward quietly handed Bella his main gift. Worth far less than the jewels he'd had commissioned, its value was in the sentiment.

"What's this?" she asked when he passed her the plainly wrapped parcel. "Another book?"

Laughing, she gestured to the collection that had piled up at her side, her love of reading well-known amongst the family.

"Take a look," he replied, the huskiness of his voice giving away the gift's importance.

Bella eyed him curiously before removing the string and paper to reveal a leather-bound, professionally printed journal. Her eyebrows rose, but then she read the gold-embossed lettering on the front, and a soft gasp escaped her lips.

 _French Cuisine, adapted and illustrated by I. Swan_ , it read, with the year printed beneath.

"It can't be." She reverently turned the pages. "All the recipes from the journal . . . the ones I translated into English. You've had it made into a book!"

Her eyes widened further to see the sketches she had drawn in the margins of her translated recipes illustrating the pages, along with her own explanations and some of her original recipes in a section towards the end of the book.

"This is the first edition of a small run," he advised her quickly, addressing his fear she might be disappointed he hadn't included her in the process. "I know we said no more secrets, but I wanted it to be a surprise. You can rewrite, add illustrations and recipes, redo the whole thing if you like. It shan't be for sale, of course, unless you want it to be, but for your own personal use and to give as gifts to family and friends."

"Oh, Edward." She threw herself into his arms.

"You like it?"

"Like it? I love it!" She hugged him again before eagerly showing it to the rest of the family.

Everyone was quick to express their approval and admiration, Sir Charles the most visibly affected.

"A. Swan?" He raised a brow.

"In case it falls into public hands this will protect Bella's reputation, not that I give a da— _hoot_ , what anyone thinks. I'm incredibly proud of both Bella's culinary and artistic abilities."

"You do realise you will never get her out of the kitchen now?" Sir Charles said.

"Excellent!" Emmett raised a hand. "I volunteer to be the taste tester."

"Emmett Cullen, if you develop a paunch I will be most displeased."

The laughter that filled the room was tinged with relief that Rosalie's rebuke had been spoken in jest and contained no little surprise at the degree of affection it revealed. Snaking an arm around his wife's waist, Emmett pulled her to his side.

"Never fear, my dear," he said. "Your wish is my command."

"Oh pfft." Rosalie's cheeks coloured with an uncharacteristic blush.

"Any requests for tomorrow's morning tea?" Bella asked, looking over Alice's shoulder while she flipped through the pages.

"Sweetheart." Edward chuckled. "I think the kitchen, and _you,_ may be a little busy tomorrow—it is Christmas Day after all," he added when her brow furrowed, her blush rivalling Rosalie's as the room filled with good-natured laughter.

It was only later in the privacy of their room that he answered her question.

"Any guess what I would like you to bake for me sometime _after_ Christmas?"

"I have a fair idea."

"Chocolate pastries," they said in unison, sharing a smile at the memory and the knowledge of how far they had come since the day he had summoned her to his office to offer his compliments to the new pastry chef.

 **~I~**

 **Oh, oh, oh, I am going to miss these two . . . and daily postings. I can't believe there are only three chapters left!**

 **I'm also going to miss all your lovely reviews. I worked out I've received over 10 000 reviews since I started reposting my stories in February, so I'm shockingly spoiled. Thank you for all the love. It has been so much fun!**

 **xx Elise**


	64. Fantasy

**Happy Birthday Kristina Lea!**

 **Sorry I'm late with this chapter. I didn't realise scabies could make you feel so sick, though that might be the pesticides I'm both consuming and being marinated in, darned, pesky resistant critters. Sigh...**

 **This chapter is pure steam with a dose of laughter thrown in. ;)**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Fantasy**

"Sweetheart?" Edward embraced Bella from behind, and she let the hand holding her hairbrush fall still. "Would you grant me a favour and wear a particular dress to dinner this evening?"

Her gaze rose to meet his in the mirror.

"The plain blue dress?"

He nodded, and her heart began to race.

"Why?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"As far as I'm concerned, we're already living our dreams." He nuzzled her neck. "But there is a specific one I would like to make a reality, but _only_ if you think the time is right. We don't have to if you'd rather not—"

"No, I want to," Bella whispered. She'd never found the courage to tell Edward her dream, but in the eighteen months since they had wed he'd revealed one or two of his own, and she was eager to see this particular one fulfilled.

While the memory of her kidnap and assault would never fade completely, it had long since lost its sting. Life was good, better even than Bella had expected, but exceptionally busy. Family, friends, and Edward's and her many commitments took up much of their time—the charity homes a major priority. They'd finally taken the tour of Europe she had once dreamed about with Jasper and Alice the previous summer, with various other members of their family joining them for different legs of the journey. It was a relief to be back at Masen Park, the busyness of the London season and the somewhat disappointing Parliament sitting—where the House of Lords had refused, once again, to pass the antislavery laws—now behind them. With no visitors or major social engagements pending, Bella was looking forward to enjoying Edward's undivided attention.

"I _definitely_ want to," she said, imagining worse ways to begin this season of their lives. Snuggling back against him, she wondered if they could skip dinner, as her appetite for food had been supplanted by an altogether different hunger.

"Do you think you might finally tell me your dream, so we can enact that also?" he asked, and Bella froze.

"Maybe." She met his gaze in the mirror. "Let's see how fulfilling your fantasy goes first."

Chuckling, he kissed her neck. "Dinner will be served in our private sitting room in half an hour."

A bemused Angela had been let in on Edward's intention and had the old gown pressed and ready for Bella to wear, along with a familiar blue ribbon. Styling her hair in the same, loose fashion she had worn the day she'd gone to the markets of Worthey, Bella was surprised how young and innocent it made her appear.

"Have a lovely evening, my lady."

Angela's tone was teasing, and Bella rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I intend to," she said, and they both burst out laughing.

"Why don't you retire early?" Bella added. "I'm sure Ben would be glad of your company."

"Thank you, Bella. I'm sure he will." Angela dropped the uncharacteristic formality.

Bella had finally convinced her friend to call her by name rather than "my lady" all the time, a testament to the strength and intimacy of their relationship. Having Angela and Ben accompany them on their trip across Europe had cemented all their relationships. Though they continued to be employed in service, Ben had risen to a position as assistant stable master and Angela as Bella's companion along with her duties as lady's maid. Edward and Bella were glad of the young couple's friendship.

Unexpectedly nervous, Bella let herself into the sitting room where she was met by a surprisingly accurate recreation of the private dining room from the inn at Worthey. Edward was waiting by the fire but crossed the room to escort her to her seat at the candlelit table.

"My lord," she greeted demurely, unsure how accurately he wanted to replay this scene.

"Bella," he replied, leaving her none the wiser.

A part of her was surprised he was willing to reenact this particular encounter—with a very different ending in mind, of course. She knew how remorseful he was for taking advantage of her when she was both naïve and in a vulnerable position, but she had no regrets. Believing her to be a servant, Edward had taught her to love honestly and without inhibition, laying the foundation for the rewarding relationship they now shared . . . and his more enlightened views on women of all classes.

Eager to fulfil Edward's fantasy, she decided to confront the issue head-on in an attempt to steer the outcome in her preferred direction.

"My lord, are you sure it is appropriate for us to be dining alone together like this, what with my being a humble servant and you a marquis?"

He blinked, then reached for her hand across the table. "Are you sure you're all right with this? I don't want you to think I'm disrespecting you in any way."

"Why, my lord, whatever do you mean?" She fluttered her eyelashes. "All I know is if you hadn't come to my rescue today that horrid man would have treated me abominably. How can I ever repay you?"

Smirking slightly, Edward sat back, eyeing her from beneath hooded lids in a way that made her heart race.

"Why don't we enjoy our dinner, and then we can discuss my plans for you further. Rest assured, there are any number of ways in which you could express your gratitude."

"As you wish, my lord."

He rang the bell for their dinner to be served, and Bella wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when their butler did not try to emulate the character of the innkeeper but served their meal with his usual stoic reserve.

Relieved, she decided with a quiet chuckle. It was bad enough the staff talked amongst themselves about the fact that, even after almost a year and a half of marriage, Edward's and her honeymoon appeared to be continuing unabated. Fortunately, they were all staunchly loyal and willing to make allowances for their employers' unfashionably affectionate manner.

Dinner was a slightly more haute cuisine interpretation of the plain fare they'd shared at the Worthey inn, and Bella savoured it while sharing a stilted conversation as she struggled to remain in character. Acting had never been her forte. She tried to recall the topics they had talked about before Edward discovered her true identity, and things flowed more smoothly when she turned the conversation to poetry and literature.

"You have a remarkably well-rounded education for one of your class, Bella." Edward's compliment was spoken in a wry tone.

"My father, the innkeeper, made sure I received the best tutoring money could buy in hopes I might make a good match. I'm sure he would be thrilled to know I have gained the interest of a marquis."

"I'll just bet he would," Edward muttered, and they both chuckled, falling out of character for a moment.

After they'd eaten dessert and the table was cleared, he instructed the staff they wouldn't be needed again for the evening. In an instant, the atmosphere changed. Bella wasn't sure if Edward wanted to continue with the game, but once they were alone, he reached for her hand.

"When I think of what might have happened today." He closed his eyes, his expression as intense as it had been on the night they were reenacting. "I can't lose you, Bella. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"You want to protect me?"

"I do." He nodded. "By making you my mistress."

"We could spend time together?" she asked, remembering how confused she'd been by the term.

"A great deal of time together."

"Good," she said firmly. "I would like that very much."

With a gentle tug of his hand, Edward pulled her from her seat and towards him. She went willingly, coming to stand between his knees.

"I want you," he murmured hoarsely. "I have wanted you from the first moment I saw you staring down at me from the window at Worthington Hall."

"Then have me," she offered huskily.

"I'm not sure you understand what that entails."

"I trust you." Boldly placing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned closer. "Whatever you want to do with me—or _to_ me—is perfectly fine by me."

Groaning, Edward buried his face against her chest and hugged her close, which seemed somewhat out of character for their little fantasy . . . or maybe not. Almost from the beginning he had been very tender towards her. When he drew back, his features were arranged into a deliciously dangerous expression that assured Bella the _game_ would continue.

"What would you have me do, my lord?" She moistened her lips with her tongue.

"Unbutton your dress."

She complied, a little too confidently at first, then more tentatively when she recalled she was supposed to be an innocent young maiden in the process of being seduced by an experienced and powerful man. A shiver ran through her at the thought.

"Anything else, my lord?" she asked when her dress was unbuttoned and gaped to reveal her chemise.

"I'll take it from here."

With gentle but deliberate movements, he pushed the dress off her shoulders, the chemise soon following. With them pooled around her waist, her shoulders and breasts were bared to his hungry gaze . . . and hands . . . and mouth.

If Bella had still been an innocent, Edward's passionate kisses and caresses would have given her quite the education. Not to mention the surprise she would have received when a little later he urged her to stand so that he could divest her of her dress, petticoat, and chemise. She was left wearing nothing but a pair of thigh-high silk stockings and her slippers—not the attire of a maid, but from the look in his eyes, her husband was happy to make allowances.

"Oh, Bella." He eyed her hungrily before unbuttoning his trousers and guiding her to straddle his lap.

Gladly giving up the pretence of her being a virgin when the time came to lower herself onto him, Bella doubted making love on a dining chair would have been the ideal initiation to the process. Their movements were a little awkward at first, but with their combined determination, they soon achieved a workable rhythm. With her hands tangled in his hair and holding his head in place, he took turns nuzzling first one breast then the other until she cried out, finding her peak and enticing him to join her.

All in all, Bella thoroughly enjoyed fulfilling Edward's fantasy and gladly retired to their large and comfortable marital bed, where she plucked up the courage to tell him about her dream.

"I bent you over my desk and . . . and . . . took you forcefully so as to _punish_ you?"

Bella nodded.

"And you thought it pleasant? You think you would enjoy enacting this?"

"I did. I do," she whispered. "But only if _you_ would enjoy it. It would just be pretend."

"Of course, it would only be pretend. I would never treat you harshly, Bella, and certainly not when we were making love."

Her shoulders drooped. "I told you it was shocking."

"Not _too_ shocking." Edward sounded unconvinced, and she was quick to reassure him.

"It's all right. I understand why you wouldn't be comfortable enacting my dream. I should never have mentioned it."

"Yes, you should have." He took hold of her shoulders and waited until she met his gaze. "I shall admit to being intrigued, but you would need to promise you would call a halt, at any stage, if you changed your mind or started feeling uncomfortable."

"I promise," she said solemnly. "As long as you promise the same thing."

The next morning, with Bella's imagination—amongst other things—thoroughly aroused, she sought out Angela's company.

"Do you still have one of your old maid's uniforms tucked away somewhere?"

Bella's query earned a startled look. It had taken a while, but she'd convinced Angela that since she was primarily her companion, Bella would prefer her to dress in everyday attire. As the two women were of a similar size and build, Bella gladly shared her extensive wardrobe.

"Why do ye ask?" Angela sounded more curious than wary. Angela and Ben had finally announced their engagement after Angela had begun opening up to Bella about the barriers that existed in her mind and heart when it came to intimacy. Letting her friend know the physical side of a loving relationship could be fun had gone a long way to alleviating some of Angela's fears. Still, Bella didn't want to embarrass either of them with too detailed an explanation.

"I would like to borrow it, as I want to play a little, er, _game_ with Edward that requires costuming." She finished on a bright note, pleased with her inventiveness.

"Don't tell me any more." Turning towards the door to Bella's sitting room, Angela went to fetch the uniform, muttering on her way out, "I don't want to know."

With her hair pinned up in a plain-looking bun, her uniform neatly buttoned, and short black boots on her feet, Bella looked the epitome of a modest young maid. The fact she had chosen not to don a rather strategic piece of her intimate attire was neither here nor there.

Just before eleven she asked Angela to scout the hallways to make sure the coast was clear of other staff members. Then Bella made her way to Edward's study, where she often joined him for morning tea. Once she had sneaked inside the door, she quickly locked it and slipped the key into one of her apron pockets before turning to face her, by now, bemused-looking husband.

"Good morning, my lord." She curtsied, glancing to where the tea tray had already been delivered, the chocolate pastries she'd baked earlier clearly visible. She hoped they could enjoy them together after they had reenacted her dream.

"Please forgive me for being late _._ I know I promised it wouldn't happen again, and you did say I would be punished severely if I continued with my tardy ways, but please, don't be too harsh on me, my lord."

Edward's eyes sparkled, and she could tell he was exerting considerable effort to keep from laughing aloud at her overacting.

"A prettily spoken apology, Miss Brown," he said. "But it does not make up for the fact that you've kept me waiting again."

Bella shivered at his severe tone and the hooded gaze he directed her way.

"I'll do anything to make it up to you, my lord. _Anything_."

A short bark of laughter escaped Edward's lips before he recovered his austere expression and beckoned her closer with a curl of his forefinger.

"That you will, Miss Brown," he said. "But first, I'm afraid, must come the punishment I promised."

"Oh, my lord." She feigned tears. "Please don't chastise me more than I can bear."

Edward tugged her hard up against his chest. "I warned you what would happen if you disobeyed me, so there is no point begging for mercy now."

His tone and expression were so severe, Bella felt a moment of apprehension. Her heart raced as she became caught up in the game that was beginning to feel thrillingly, and maybe a little frighteningly, real.

"Umm . . . you wouldn't actually hurt me, would you?" she whispered.

Edward's eyes widened. "How could you even ask such a thing? I would rather cut off my own arm than cause you pain. You must know that by now."

"Well, it's just you are so very convincing," she said in an effort to placate him.

"I am?" He sounded pleased and waggled his eyebrows. "Well, maybe that's because I rather relish the idea of chastising the delectable Miss Brown on my desk, which is what I'm assuming you want?"

"Yes, please."

His face took on a sinister cast once more, his voice dropping low. "Then stop interrupting me."

Bella nodded dumbly, and in a flash, he spun her around, so her back was pressed against his front and the desk was before them. His hands moved to boldly cup her breasts through the thin material of her blouse and chemise, and his growing hardness pressed against her bottom.

"You're in for it now, Miss Brown. I will teach you to obey me if it is the last thing I do."

"Oh, my lord," she cried, thoroughly enjoying being dominated by her dark and dangerous husband. Pushing back to rub her bottom against his aroused member, she feigned ignorance. "Are you sure it's safe to be carrying a weapon on your person at a time like this, my lord? It's not loaded, is it?"

"It certainly is." He thrust against her, and Bella's body shook with suppressed laughter. Capturing her hands, he held them together in front of her. "How dare you laugh at me?" he said, more than a little mirth evident in his own tone.

"Forgive me, my lord." She looked over her shoulder, imploring him with exaggerated fluttering of her eyelashes.

"You shall receive my forgiveness when you have satisfied my desires, Miss Brown, and not before."

He tugged her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and slipped his hands beneath. The chemise was in the way, and she was taken aback to hear the sound of the fabric tearing.

"Damn," he muttered. "I shall buy you a replacement."

"Think nothing of it," she whispered, gasping with pleasure when his hands slid through the hole he had created in the chemise. While fondling her breasts with bold strokes, his teeth nipped lightly at her neck, and his erection pressed rhythmically against her.

If this was Edward's idea of chastisement, she would have to displease him more often.

"You won't make me wait too long for my punishment, will you?" she asked, unsure if her question was in character or not.

"I wasn't planning on making you wait at all," Edward said, pushing her forward so she was bent over the shiny surface of his desk, her weight resting on her elbows.

"Don't move," he ordered, removing his hands to tug at her skirts, lifting them high until her bare bottom was revealed to his gaze.

"Oh, Bella, you are just begging to be chastised."

Laying a hand on each cheek of her bottom, he caressed them softly, cupping and moulding the soft globes beneath his fingers. Unable to resist, she squirmed beneath his touch.

Then he spanked her.

The tap was light, with barely enough force to cause the mildest sting, but her shock was profound.

"Edward!" She stared at him over her shoulder.

"That's _my lord_ to you." His smirk was unmistakeable. "Now hold still, or there will be more where that came from."

"But . . . but . . . you said you wouldn't hurt me."

"I didn't!" His brow furrowed, and he soothingly stroked the place where he had slapped. "Did I?"

"No, not really," she admitted. "You just gave me a fright."

"The look on your face was priceless."

It was Bella's turn to scowl. "You are spoiling the game."

He quickly sobered. "Silence, Miss Brown," he said, holding her firmly with one hand at her bare hip while he released his impressively aroused member from his breeches.

"Heavens above." Bella's awestruck tone was only partially feigned.

"I said _silence_ ," Edward repeated, though there was a chuckle in his tone. With only the barest preparation, he entered her, quickly establishing a punishing pace.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he whispered, leaning forward to cover her body, his mouth close to her ear.

"No, don't stop," she half ordered, half pleaded.

Edward obeyed and continued to chastise her until she was overcome with one of the most intense climaxes she had ever experienced, which was saying something considering the heights of bliss her husband had brought her to on numerous occasions. Continuing to move until he had milked her body of every last ounce of ecstasy, he held back from attaining his own release until she was reduced to a moaning, quivering bundle of satiation.

Bella vaguely recalled hearing his groan of satisfaction when he finally allowed his body to seek its own pleasure, returning to reality to find herself being cuddled on his lap in his large, comfortable chair.

"So, Miss Brown." Her dazed expression met his smug gaze. "Have you learned your lesson? Can I count on you to behave from now on?"

"Oh, quite to the contrary, my lord." She melted against him. "I must forewarn you. I intend to misbehave quite regularly in future."

 **~I~**

 **I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Worth a chuckle...and maybe a review?**

 **xx Elise**


	65. Announcement

**I was shocked to discover this is the second to last chapter of Innocence! It is only short, but I shall wait until tomorrow to post the final chapter, as I need to prepare myself for the end of this wonderful journey.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Announcement**

"Sweetheart, do you have a moment?" Bella approached Edward in his study at Masen Park. It seemed appropriate to share her news with him in this room, as she had reason to believe it was on the very desk where he now worked that this particular part of their journey had begun.

"For you, sweetheart"—he put the papers he was working on aside and drew her to rest against his legs—"I have as many moments as you need."

Smiling at his declaration, she took a seat in her favourite place—his lap. With his hands holding her around her waist, she linked her fingers behind his neck. Even after nearly two years of marriage, she was still a little awed by her too-handsome husband. It was sometimes hard to believe he was all hers, though she was going to have to learn to share.

Savouring the moment, she leaned forward at the same time he did, their mouths brushing together for a kiss that sent a thrill coursing through her. She didn't fear growing tired of Edward's attention, her confidence justified to date. Although they had their occasional moments of discord, she wanted him more each day. The feeling, thankfully, was mutual.

"There was something you wanted to tell me?" Edward nuzzled her neck with his lips.

"More in the way of an announcement."

He stilled before pulling back to meet her nervous gaze. "You saw the doctor?"

"And the midwife."

Edward had insisted she get more than one opinion.

"And?"

"And we shall be the proud parents of a, hopefully, healthy baby boy, or _girl_ , in late spring, early summer of next year."

"Hopefully?" He pounced on the word as she knew he would, and she cupped his cheek.

"Both the doctor and the midwife said they believe the baby is fine, but I'm being cautious as it is still early. We do have seven more months to go."

If nothing else, life had taught Bella to be pragmatic.

"But the baby is well . . . _you are_ well?" Edward shifted a hand to place it gently over her stomach.

"Yes, the baby and I are both perfectly well," she said firmly.

"And the delivery?"

His eyes measured the distance between her hip bones just as they had multiple times a day since she had missed her monthly courses for the second time a week prior. Thankfully, her figure had matured as Edward had hoped it would. Her hip measurement had grown by almost three inches since they wed, giving her a more womanly shape and one better suited to childbearing. Regardless, he had wanted to wait a full two years after their marriage before trying for a baby, and she knew he feared their preempting the plan could lead to tragedy.

"I am a fit, healthy, and extremely well-cared-for young woman, and neither the doctor nor midwife could see any reason why there would be complications."

 _"Ye're not a verra robust lass, and I'd like to see a bit more meat on yer bones. But ye're sensible and, from what I've heard, not afraid of hard work, so I'm sure ye'll birth a bonny babe without too much fuss,"_ were the Scottish midwife's exact words, but Bella hesitated to report them in full. The last thing she wanted was to give Edward an excuse to coddle her any more than he already did.

"We're going to have a baby," he whispered.

Wonder filled his eyes, and Bella smiled, anticipating his answering grin. When his brow furrowed instead, her face fell.

"We're going to be parents. I'm going to be a father."

"A wonderful father," she said firmly. "Kind, caring, involved. Our child will have two parents who love it dearly."

Edward nodded, his expression solemn. "He, or _she,_ won't be abandoned in the nursery, only brought out once or twice a week for a visit with his mother. Nor will he be left wondering if he has somehow displeased his father, as he sees him so rarely," he added, and her heart ached for the lonely little boy he must have been.

Hugging him tightly, she was pleased they were on the same page when it came to the rearing of their children. Once more, they would be going against convention, as Bella planned to follow in her mother's footsteps. Having escaped from the strictures of formal court life to live amongst the peasant and working classes of rural France before meeting and marrying Bella's father, her mother had known which model she wanted to follow. While wisely accepting assistance when required, rather than situate the nursery in the most remote location of the house, she'd had it located next to the parents' suite.

"You are still planning to nurse our babe yourself?" Edward asked, not for the first time.

Bella nodded, and he blew out a slow breath.

"That's something I should very much like to see," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the bodice of her gown. Tilting his head back up with a finger under his chin, their gazes met, hers rueful and his chagrined.

"I would have thought you'd had your fill of staring at my naked breasts."

"Never! Though my desire to see our babe at your breast is not entirely puerile," he defended. "There is something about the thought of _my_ wife nursing _my_ child that stirs very primitive instincts within me."

"Considering we were engaged in a rather primitive act when this particular babe was conceived, I suppose that is understandable."

"Since when have you considered our lovemaking primitive?"

"Since I'm fairly certain I became with child the morning we were acting out my dream, that's when."

Edward's eyes widened. "Here . . . on my desk? How can you be sure?"

"Well . . ." Bella pulled a face. "Alice discovered an alternative method, a way to calculate the 'safe days' when a woman's fertility is supposedly low. I thought a break from using the sponge would be welcome, but my calculations must have been off."

"Or Alice's source didn't know what they were talking about," Edward said dryly.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind? I'm thrilled you are going to have my child."

The grin Bella had been waiting for finally appeared, and she breathed a sigh.

"But I do own to being relieved it's not necessary for us to reveal the details of the babe's conception. It will be difficult enough explaining to our children the circumstances surrounding their parents' less than conventional introduction."

"True." Bella laughed, gazing up from her place on his lap to the portrait of the two of them that held pride of place over the fire. She had painted it as a gift for his twenty-fifth birthday, since the painting she had nervously given him for their second Christmas together had been such a success. She was convinced her husband was biased, although she had to admit the art tutor he had found to instruct her was far superior to the one who had discouraged her when she was a girl.

The first portrait she had painted was a more formal composition of Edward alone, and he had insisted on hanging it prominently in the grand entranceway where the portraits of his ancestors were displayed. This painting of the two of them showed her seated with Edward standing behind her and to the left, one hand placed on her shoulder and a smile on both their faces. Bella had left ample space around them for additions to their family as they arrived. The image her mind superimposed onto the painting of their baby resting in her lap was one she looked forward to making a reality.

 **~I~**

 **I love how they added to family portraits as children were born into the family.**

 **I'm with Edward,** **as I think it's a good thing we don't tell 'conception' stories...or not too often. All three of my children were due on the same date, and my eldest once asked me if there was any significance to that fact. "Not that I know of," I replied, feeling bemused and a little embarrassed. We all had quite the chuckle when she counted back 40 weeks on the calendar and landed on my husband's birthday!**

 **xx Elise**


	66. Family

**I can't believe this is the last chapter of Innocence! It's only short, but I hope you find it as satisfying and touching as I did.**

 **xx Elise**

 **~I~**

 **Family**

"It's too quiet, damn it. I heard a few cries earlier, but now she is not making any noise. Why isn't she making any noise?"

"Would you rather she was screaming?"

Jasper's tone might have been droll, but the effect of his words was predictable considering the state of Edward's nerves.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He took a break from his frantic pacing to stalk towards his best friend until Jasper was backed up against the wall.

"Nothing, Mase. Now calm down."

"I haven't seen my wife for a day and a half, and I am bloody worried. Don't tell me to calm down!"

"Edward, lower your voice." Alice placed a hand on his arm. "You'll upset Bella with your yelling."

His anger drained away as quickly as it had roused, and Edward hung his head. Maybe he should have taken his father's advice, after all, and gone for a long ride, but he hadn't wanted to be away from the house in case Bella needed him. For what, he couldn't say. A father's presence wasn't welcome at a birth.

At the sound of a baby's cry, Edward spun to face the bedroom door. He stepped towards it, then hesitated, his thoughts spinning in every direction. Ignoring Jasper's slap on his back, a blow that would have felled a smaller man, he froze in place.

After an interminable wait, one that seemed to last for hours but was probably only ten or fifteen minutes, the midwife poked her head around the door. "Lord Masen? Yer wife's ready to see ye now."

He didn't budge, and she beckoned him over.

"Come now. After all her hard work, she's eager to show off yer new bairn. Ye don't want to keep her waiting, do ye?"

"No, of course not," he murmured, summoning the courage to enter Bella's room.

"Sweetheart," he whispered as he slowly approached the bed where she sat propped up against the pillows, a tiny bundle in her arms. She looked exhausted and beautiful and as if she were glowing from the inside, her smile was so bright.

"Look." She dropped her chin to the babe. "We have a son, Edward, a healthy baby boy."

Speechless, he knelt down beside his wife and child, awed by the sight.

"Isn't he beautiful?" she said, tilting the babe a fraction so Edward could see him more clearly.

He didn't disagree, despite the fact his son's face was red and scrunched up like an old man's.

"He's wonderful." He finally found his voice. "As are you. Are you all right? I heard you cry out a few times . . ."

" _Shh_ . . ." She shook her head. "I'm well. A little sore, a _lot_ tired, but perfectly all right."

She reached for his hand, and he entwined their fingers, squeezing hers gently. Still struggling to find words, he blinked back the moisture that pooled in his eyes. Then their son made an odd, snuffling noise, and his attention was diverted.

"He's so tiny," Edward said, and Bella harrumphed. He glanced up to see her pull a face, and his already overwrought conscience took another stab at his heart. "Not that I'm saying . . . it must have been very difficult . . . I think you have done an amazing job . . ."

"It's over, and our son is a perfect, healthy size for a newborn, or so the midwife assures me."

Edward nodded, silently repeating the vows he had made himself during the hours of waiting and pacing that, whatever the outcome, one child would be enough. Bella had provided him with an heir, not that he would have cared if the babe had been a girl. Either way, he wasn't willing to risk her life again, not when he considered that her mother had died giving birth to her second child. Besides, he honestly didn't think he would survive the ordeal again.

The baby made another sound, more of a squeak this time, and their gazes returned to their son.

"He's got your hair," Bella whispered, fingering the damp locks that even in this muted light showed a hint of curl.

"He's got your eyes . . . well, the shape. I wonder what colour they'll be?" Edward gently stroked the silky soft skin of his son's flushed cheek.

Bella's eyelids began to droop, and he stroked her damp hair back from her forehead.

"Thank you for bringing our son into the world."

"You're welcome. Sorry it took so long." She yawned, and the midwife came and picked up the babe, leaving Bella to nestle against the pillows.

Leaning down to softly kiss her lips, Edward tucked the blankets around her. "I love you more than I would have thought humanly possible."

"I love you, too," she murmured. "Both of you."

"All right, that's enough of that." The midwife chuckled and placed the sleeping babe in Edward's arms. "Time for her ladyship to rest. Don't worry, I shall keep an eye on her."

With one last smile for his beautiful wife, the Marquis of Masen went to introduce his son and heir to his extended family.

Two months after his birth, Lord William Cullen, Viscount Matthews—one of his father's lesser titles—and future Marquis of Masen and Duke of Worthington was christened, a reverent and yet joyous affair. After the sumptuous luncheon at Masen Park that followed the service in the village chapel, Edward had the joy of unveiling Bella's latest painting. It was one their families had seen before, as the portrait she had painted of the two of them hung in Edward's study, but with one very important addition—their son nestled in her lap, resplendent in the lace christening gown that had been worn by generations of Cullens.

Despite attempting to hold firm to his vow they would only be having the one child, two and a half years later their families were reunited for the christening of their second son.

His wife was braver than he. When Edward would not be swayed, she took matters into her own hands, taking advantage of him in a moment of weakness when he was half asleep. Thankfully, Lord James Cullen came into the world after a blessedly short and far easier labour, or so Bella insisted. Six hours still seemed like an inordinately long time to endure such suffering. It took even less time when their twin girls were born three years later, but it felt a lot longer as Edward had been sick with worry at the knowledge she had to give birth _twice_. While both their sons took after their father in appearance, Lady Patricia and Lady Elizabeth Cullen were the image of their mother, with red hair, big brown eyes, and smiles that had both Edward and their older brothers wrapped around their little fingers within weeks of their birth.

Baby number five came as somewhat of a surprise four years later.

"A gift," Bella told Edward firmly, despite the fact it was their getting completely carried away during a long carriage ride on one of the rare occasions they spent away from their noisy, growing brood—forgetting both timing and precautions—that precipitated the babe's arrival. Another beautiful little girl to complete their family and keep her father on his toes, Lady Louise Cullen had her mother's nose and chin but Edward's dark hair and green eyes, to his wife's open and his secret delight.

Edward and Bella's love flourished along with their family, his pride in his wife growing with her accomplishments. At his insistence, her paintings graced the walls of both Masen Park and Masen House in London. A few even found their way into the homes of their closest friends and family, as her confidence in her ability grew enough for her to accept the requests she received to paint their portraits also.

Bella's work with the young girls rescued from the city's brothels inspired some of their peers to perform similar acts of charity. Although they seemed no closer to changing the laws that would make prosecuting the perpetrators of such evil practices possible.

The antislavery laws were eventually passed, which gave them all cause for rejoicing. But whilst young girls and boys continued to be abused in their places of employment and forced into prostitution, their work was far from done.

Edward and Bella's friends and families prospered. There were cousins aplenty to keep their children company, not to mention a half-brother for Bella when Penelope surprised and delighted Sir Charles by providing him with an heir.

Christmases were noisy, hectic affairs when they all gathered together, and they spent an inordinate amount of time travelling between each other's estates to celebrate birthdays and for house parties. But it was worth it. Their family, though separated by distance when they weren't in London for the season, was closer than ever.

While they had their fair share of obstacles to overcome, the occasional disagreement, and blessedly few dark days to endure, Edward and Bella's life was filled with family, friends, laughter, and above all, love . . . once forbidden but now freely declared.

The End

 **I don't know how to thank you all for your kindness and support while I have posted (and in this case, re-posted) my stories on Fan Fiction Net as well as self-publishing the Original Fiction versions on Amazon. It's been quite an adventure, and my lovely readers and reviewers have made it a very special time. I worked out I've received over 10 000 reviews since I started posting roughly three months ago, which has been like a constant flow of 'warm fuzzies'. I shall miss you all, but I will be back with more historical romance tales before too long. For those of you who are interested, my contemporary tale, Gone Viral, is 22 chapters along with another 4 written and only another half a dozen or so to go. My next project is a sequel to Passion and Propriety, as my Regency Edward and Bella have more to say it would seem! Interwoven with their story will be Rosalie's tale, as the Viscount Masen, his wife, twin babies, and his wife's sisters journey to London for the Season. I'm predicting lots of drama, fun, and romance. I shall also be reworking and posting the Edward Outtakes from this story, so keep an eye out for them in your inboxes which will, no doubt, seem quite empty without my constant bombardment of chapters!  
**  
 **Thank you again my lovely reader friends for taking this journey with me. I'm so glad I was able to add a little joy to your days with my stories.**

 **xxx Elise**


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